Kidnapping the King of Hell
by HellsingDMC
Summary: An x Reader interaction. You Sam and Dean are trying to think of new ways to get Crowley to fess up and reveal the location of the hidden Codex; the guide to deciphering both Tablets without using a Prophet, and also a key to the secret 11th Commandment. But what you don't know is the bizarre truth that Crowley's trying to keep away from you, along with everybody else.
1. Prologue

Crowley sits at his antique wooden desk with papers scattered all over the place, scratching his head a few times and pondering over which leather book he should check next. He begins to tap a quill on the edge of his hand, while quickly skimming through every spell book he owns in the hopes of finding the correct location spell to use. Plus the one he needs has to be precise, and able to break through an ancient warding hex done by a powerful source of magic. There's a bottle of scotch that's half empty with a couple unopened bottles sitting off to the side that date back to the early 1700s, suggesting that his taste in liquor is as fashionable as his decor, along with a small detailed jar filled with a little cloud inside that swirls around in random motions as if it has a mind of its own. There's also a few books teetering over the edge of the desk that had been hastily tossed aside after being flipped through, along with a crumbling map of the world that still has Latin words such as _Ameri_ , and _Ev Ropa_ , and several Latin variations surrounding the boarders; indicating that he must have been at this for a long time.

The antique-looking room is filled head to toe with old mementos from Crowley's past. A few medieval weapons, and small torturing tools here and there that are slightly rusty from use, a couple expensive looking marble busts from Rome retrieved when they were originally made, along with a fancy fireplace lined with gold, and covered in antique objects dating anywhere from the Victorian era, to the mid 1900s. This massive room looks like something out of a museum, or an old film full of antiques all neatly organized and dusted regularly rather than a part of Hell where there's supposed to be torment and despair; not comfort and patience.

There's also a detailed red rug that lines the cold stone floor, adding more of a luxury feeling to Crowley's office, along with his Hellhound Juliet, who's curled up on the rug and happily snoring away with a few dog toys scattered around beside her. There are several dusty bookshelves that are stuffed with ancient novels, and leather bound journals, dating anywhere from what little was saved from the fire in the Library of Alexandria; all the way up to the Renaissance periods throughout Europe and East Asia. There are also a few famous paintings that are mantled above his desk and along what little space he has on the stone walls. Most of them appear to be keepsakes from his past life; but others are from famous painters such as Botticelli, Monet, and Uccello that he had either bought or stole throughout the many years he's walked the earth.

Crowley's fingers grasp around the empty glass cup as he pours himself another drink to wash away the torment of skimming through ancient texts to find one simple spell. He almost regrets not having a clock down here to help him keep track of the time that breezes by, especially for those rare events where time actually matters to him.

"' _Just look at the pretty pictures Crowley, it'll only take a few more hours Crowley_.' What Hell was I thinking; this will take a century and a half!" He mocks himself deliberately for his own entertainment while flipping through the leather bound book with crisp yellow pages that have faded Latin words written in huge walls of text, along with detailed hand-drawn pictures of herbal ingredients, flasks, and a few creatures that are essential to the spells. His eyes glaze over the words quickly, resting his chin on one of his hands all while sighing deeply and clearly not enjoying himself while doing this tedious task.

Time passes by slowly underground, the hours feel like months; and the days feel like years. Most people would get sick of it by now, but Crowley has been living life like this for a few centuries. There's no concept of time in his head, there's only when and where. Time is only irrelevant when the Winchesters are involved; given their reckless nature towards his pets, and selfless decision making that results in everyone around them getting slaughtered one way or another really burdens the whole eternity aspect. In his eyes he sees them as destructive toddlers, and he has to pick up their toys when they break them; and replace them before they start to cry.

Crowley's fingers move away from the cup after taking a few swigs as he flips another crumbling page in a thick book labeled " _Benignus et Malignus Maleficis Artibus Inserviebat_." He makes a few mental notes about some of the spells he stumbled upon, but so far none of them have what he is looking for. As thorough as he may be, he catches himself going back a few lines and re-reading a few sections while skimming through the brief entries all based on location spells for any type of creature; including Angels. This book in particular looks like its seen better days, and there appears to be important pages torn from it done by previous owners who have had this before he found it. He doesn't really care about those spells that have been plucked like unkempt feathers, unless it's the one he's looking for; then certainly there's a chance for blood to be spilled until he finds it again.

"It's only a matter of time before what you want will come to you. I've got an eternity, time is in my hands." He assures himself with a quick twitch of his lips gleefully, forming a smug grin while skimming along with excitement in his eyes, glancing down towards the small jar on his desk, almost as if he was stuck in some sort of trance for a few seconds. It's one thing to find a decent location spell to track something or someone; but it's another to find one that can break a powerful hex that's forbidding the spell to take action in the first place.

He already knows why what he's been searching for has been hexed; after all, they fled the country praying that this would keep him away, and that's part of the reason why he's desperate to locate it; because it wasn't _meant_ for him to find. Despite his usual effort to keep himself well polished on the outside and hygienically maintained, his mentality has been a wreck lately ever since he caught wind of something that once belonged to him. He also had been locked away in his own world for quite some time now, completing the hunt for whatever means possible to assure himself that he will find his possession before the Winchesters do.

One of the bookshelves that's besides Crowley tucked away in one of the corners resemble the same mentality his mind's been in for a few days; bits and pieces are missing here and there, ruffled books and torn journals with missing pages loosely about, dusty and full of dirt, and overall disorganized and unkempt. He was willing to defile his skilled organizational habits to further his advance in finding his lost relic which says a lot about him, and how much this means to him. He's been pulling off random books or journals based around how useful they could be, and a few ingredient recipes here and there in the hopes of finding this particular object.

He lets his mind graze across the pages on autopilot, shaking his head at a few of the misleading spell titles all while using his finger as a bookmark. Eventually he reaches the section he was looking for, and completely changes his dull attitude into something more attentive. After what feels like another eternity, Crowley takes in a deep, collective breath and slightly rejoices a little by filling up his glass to the brim, and drinking the majority of it within mere seconds all while having a smug expression plastered across his face. Relief washes over him, knowing that he had finally found the right spell to help him reclaim what was rightfully his in the first place before anybody can take it away from him again.

He rises up from his comfy antique chair followed by a few snaps and cracks from his bones being in the same position for too long. He begins to walk towards another small desk he has off to the side in his room, where he keeps a bowl of fresh blood used for spells or 'phone calls' to the other Demons. There's also a selection of various _hard-to-find_ ingredients lingering on one of the shelves, he hastily reaches for the flasks he needs while carrying back the bowl to his desk where he has a map of the entire world spread out over the surface. For a brief moment in time, it almost feels like the King of Hell has a moment of clarity, despite not having a soul anymore he still shows that he feels _some_ kind of emotion other than anger and hate towards his new found discovery.

He sets everything down in a peculiar way, skimming through the wall of ancient text to find the recipe again while uncapping the flasks and jars he had set down beside the bowl.

" _Now where o' where could my little darling be...?_ " He quietly mutters the words to himself while adding in the required ingredients. When he reaches the last part of the instructions, he carefully holds the bowl over the entire map, the blood inside the bowl seems to be reacting to the ingredients as he recites the Latin phrases. The blood begins to bubble, and creates small tendons as if it were living and writhing about in a violent manner, after he finished reciting the spell he gently pours the mixture over the map and taking out a small match from one of his pockets with a shimmer of excitement in his hazel eyes; dropping it onto the liquid coated mixture and watching with amusement as it bursts into flames, leaving a delightful scent of Lilacs and Roses lingering through the air instead of the usual cloudy smell that thickens the room. The flames nearly touch the ceiling, and they feel just as hot as Hell itself as it burns through the excess remains of the paper that doesn't hold any knowledge or use to him anymore. Eventually the flames calm down and simmer away, far from the usual U.S boarder that he's grown quite used to popping up whenever he does a location spell for his lost items.

"Hello love, what do we have here...?" A confused expression twists across his face; surely he was mentally prepared for the Winchesters to be involved, but also relieved that he doesn't have to deal with that mess just yet. His fingers touch the small smoldering piece of paper that reveals a small town located in London, named Bristol.

Immediately the colour drains from his face, everything he was doing was just a waste of time if it happened to be located in the one place that was in the back of his mind for several years. He hadn't gotten around to looking for it as the Winchesters have been frolicking around and damaging his demons, and he had a strong feeling that it was left in London for all these years.

"Well that's a _bloody shocker_ , now isn't it?" The sarcasm drips from his voice, hinting that he had probably suspected whatever he was looking for must have been hidden there from the start. He puts his hand to his face for a few seconds before grabbing his glass cup and taking a quick swig, and setting it back down on the desk in a careful manner. He then swipes away the empty bowl in a small fit of rage, sending it flying towards one of the walls as it clatters against the impact and rolls around for a couple seconds before coming to a complete halt on the rug. Waking up Juliet in the process and causing her to growl directly at him for waking her up; before promptly curling up again and falling asleep in a matter of minutes.

His eyes narrow a little due to being annoyed, after trying for a few years he'd finally found the right spell to break the warding hex that kept him away from his treasure. Without any moment to lose, Crowley's eyes gaze down at the seared piece of paper that's still on the desk, crumpling it up and placing it inside his pocket; returning his smug grin to his face while snapping his fingers and vanishing instantly from his cozy little office, and emerging back on the surface to locate what was rightfully his for all these years.


	2. Chapter One: According to the Plan

The boys pull in towards an abandoned looking back road that has a weathered down old house, the sound of the tires on the rough gravel means that you're officially off the highway after driving for about a day and a half straight. It's been ages since you've stretched your legs while constantly shifting positions throughout the tedious drive while on your phone so naturally you're ready to open the back door and walk out without even thinking twice of where you are.

"Hold it kid, we still don't know if you should even be doing this." Dean's voice grips your conscious back into reality, remembering the long conversation the three of you had about confronting Crowley on the whereabouts of the Codex. "Besides, what if you give away our positions and then what? Who's going to save you when he starts tearing you apart; or worse, turning you into one of _them_." His eyes shift from yours to Sam's who holds a stern look aimed towards his stubborn brother based on the choice of words he used.

Dean's always doubted you in everything ever since you've become a part of the dynamic duo; the first couple weeks he refused to talk to you directly despite your efforts to show him that you're worth his trust, but you know very well that he's going to stick you on the back burner no matter what.

"I think Bobby taught me well enough, if my father trusted him with my life." The words that come out of your mouth were intended to cause minimal damage after losing one of the greatest Hunters around, but you can see the searing pain sweep across their faces before reminiscing into the usual Sam and Dean stare, where nothing eats away at their conscious on the outside; when you know for a fact there's a lot swirling around inside those thick heads of theirs.

"She has a point Dean, Bobby's been looking after her for nearly _two decades_ ; he even kept her hidden from us. Who knows, maybe Crowley will fall for it and we can finally get that upper hand we've been dreaming about." Sam regains his emotions before speaking, letting Dean simmer in his subtle anger unable to admit that his brother is probably right.

Your eyes glance down towards your phone, showing that it's almost midnight and anything later than right now would be too late to contact him. Sam already went over with what ingredients to use to summon specifically him and no other Demon, and you even spent a few days repeating the Latin words to yourself just to make sure that you don't mess up. You can feel your heart slightly race from the excitement of finally being able to show off a few charisma skills that you've learned from the best, that and you haven't really been on any big heists like this one before; kidnapping the King of Hell. What could possibly go wrong, besides him slaughtering you if you mess up.

Dean slowly steers the car towards an area that's surrounded by a few huge bushes perfect for camouflaging the Impala on such a dark night. He kills the lights and just like that everything around you is plunged into darkness, accompanied by the sound of nearby crickets chirping and a gentle, calm breeze that lingers in the cool evening air.

"You remember the plan, _right_?" Dean turns to you, showing a bit of skepticism along with fully doubting your ability. You don't really take offence to it, after all you only just started travelling with them a few weeks ago and already broke the ice with Sam and Castiel; Dean's just a touch nut to crack in general.

"Pretend to be helpless, beg for him to turn me into a demon, exploit any weak points _if_ he shows any, and then shoot him in a ' _non-lethal area_ ' with the carved bullet until you two come swooping in to save the day." You reach for the silver revolver that's sitting on the bench seat beside your leather bag, snagging a few of the carved bullets you've made the night before, proving a point that you do actually listen to their ridiculous plans that they come up with.

Dean flashes you a quick smile. "Good girl, now show me how to load the revolver so I know you're not as dumb as you look." His sarcastic voice makes you want to kick him in the face, despite knowing that he's joking. After all, you first met holding a loaded gun to his head and splashing holy water in his face; yet you still can't help but want him to eat his own words one day.

"I'll get right on that, _asshole_." You roll your eyes at him, opening the back door and making sure to put the bullets inside the chamber in front of him with the back light on, clicking it into position with a sarcastic expression on your face aimed towards him just to rub it in. Sam also steps out of the car for a brief second, after mocking his brother the same way you did; leaving Dean stuck with a blank smirk and staring out the windshield window in awe. "My brother, and the shit-eating grin sidekick; feels like I might get replaced." He snorts to himself with a hint of laughter, followed by a sudden realization that Sam might actually replace him with you.

The cool air lightly skims across your body, making it not too cold, but just enough to relieve you from the dry air that's trapped inside Dean's ' _windows up on the highway_ ' rule. You hear the sound of shoes crunching on gravel as Sam heads toward the back of the trunk in order to get the ingredients that you need to summon him. Oddly enough this place seems vaguely familiar like you've already been here before, however you have no idea where you are; yet somehow the trees, and this house look like an obscured childhood memory distorted by the fragments of time as you've aged.

The fresh air helps clear your mind as well, as you stand with your back against the car waiting for Sam to gather everything that's needed. You've always felt this weird hallow sensation deep down inside and instantly this place reminds you of it.

You remember how Castiel would ask you questions back at the Bunker based on your soul, knowing that he was trying to see if you were aware that you didn't have one. Your parents were one of the best Hunters originally, and they lost your soul to a monster a long time ago, and desperately wanted to make things right again. They've taught you how to control the urges of anything devious or sinful and gave you the ability to develop self restraint so that way you wouldn't slip further and further into the troublesome behavioral patterns that people like you tend to have; up until the point where one mission ended up costing their lives and leaving you alone in a monstrous world. Sure it slightly bothers you, knowing that you'll never feel any emotion, or get attached to anybody that has a significant impact on your life, but you can't let that get to you, because emotions get in the way when it comes to hunting. And that's why Bobby saw it as a perfect opportunity to teach you how to hunt.

"Alright, this should do it." Sam mumbles to himself, slamming the trunk shut and walking around the car past you carrying a handful of supplies and a rifle loaded with more carved bullets. Sam nods in your direction, hinting that maybe you should start walking with him towards the spot right beside the rusty water tank, that has a simple wooden frame still barely standing with decaying wood just off to the side. You follow along beside him in silence, letting your eyes get used to the darkness while Sam sets up the ingredients on the ground in a small space, followed by a can of spray paint to set up a couple small Devil's traps nearby on the metal beam, he also picks up a broken stick to draw a huge one in the dirt surrounding the ritual.

"If Crowley doesn't fall for the obvious one, try to lure him into the smaller ones. Also, only shoot if-"

"You feel threatened. _I know_. I've been in the car with you for over a day and a half." I repeat the last line with him, adding a few words of my own in an annoyed tone. You know he doesn't mean any harm; Sam was always nicer to you than Dean was anyways. Sam places a hand on your shoulder for a few seconds, giving you a small, confident smile before removing his hand. "You'll do great, Crowley probably hates the sight of the both of us so with you around he wouldn't suspect anything at first."

Your face twists up in confusion. "What do you mean ' _at first_?' I've got this, I swear." You try not to hint that you take a little offence to what he's saying, especially after how Dean always second guesses you, and explains everything to you like you're a child. His face immediately falls, "I-I uh didn't mean it like that, you know.. I'm just gonna go back to the car, we'll keep an eye on you and move in when it's time. I won't let him hurt you." He nods his head once more in an awkward-like way, before taking off towards the car and opening the door; and instantly you feel alone.

You've been mentally preparing yourself for this task for almost a week now, you've managed to memorize everything about the plan, but somehow in the heat of the moment you still tense up and feel frightened. With shaky hands you kneel over towards the ritual, taking the small scalpel and slicing a little bit into the palm of your hand to get some blood flowing while wincing in pain for a few seconds, reciting the same words over and over again inside your head before actually speaking them out loud. Your blood drips from your hand and into the bowl, mixing in with the other ingredients as the Latin words form freely from your lips without any hesitation. You're almost a bit surprised actually, at how easy it was after worrying about it for a few days straight.

At the end of the last word, you feel the air grow slightly colder, and the wind picks up quickly before slowing down into it's normal pace. You glance up in front of you, and there stands Crowley himself fully awaiting for your excuse as to why you had summoned him in the dead of the night.

"Did you really think that trap would catch me? I know better than that." He gazes down for a bit, staring at the circle Sam made before walking around it towards you with curious eyes, as if he's trying to see if he remembers seeing you somewhere; an answer that you honestly might never hear but none the less ponder because you swear you've seen him before at some point in your life as well. You take a second to collect yourself, remembering all of the conversations about handling Crowley's sadistic personality and what to say to get him to like you. You remember specifically Dean telling you how he likes to manipulate anyone and everyone to his advantage and if you can stay a couple steps ahead of him then you can easily trick him just like how he tricks others. Eventually you begin to pick yourself up off of the ground and stand up straight, holding his powerful gaze with yours trying to match his strength; a small, sly smirk spreads slowly across his face in a matter of moments.

"You aren't like the other half wits I've dealt with are you? You've managed to try and trap me in a general summoning spot where usually I wouldn't have to think twice on where to walk, but you.. You're _full_ of surprises, aren't you darling?"

You don't reply to him, knowing that he's trying to sweet talk his way into reading you so that way he knows how to choose his next words. Instead, you just keep holding his gaze while trying to think of a way to break the thin ice between you and him. You can tell he's starting to get impatient, his eyes keep shifting from yours to the dirt, studying your features along with the stone cold emotion you have towards the King of Hell in front of you. You almost feel as if he's the one intimidated by you instead of it being the other way around.

"Tell me sweetheart, anything your heart desires and I will make my best effort to please you." He asks once again, shifting as far away from the line as possible while holding your unbreakable gaze. Those words that he said lingers around your mind for a little bit, trying to see if there's any actual meaning to what he's telling you. During your small journey to decipher him entirely, you start to get a slight feel for how his personality works. He shows himself as a well dressed man with a posh tone, clearly if he's the King of Hell then it's the best of the best that he is looking for.

"I want to become a Demon. I want to serve you and show you how quickly I can climb and surpass anybody above me."

Your words strike him with every syllable, his eyes widen a little in disbelief as you step outside of the Devil's trap, showing a small sign of trust while carefully walking towards the rusty water tank where Sam had drawn a couple more circles. Your fingers squeeze the handle of the revolver that's sticking out of your jeans hidden underneath by your baggy sweater to remind you that if all else fails you can still lodge a bullet through his shoulder blade and get away safely.

"That's _quite_ an offer you're posing- I didn't quite catch your name, my love." He pauses for a second, hoping to see if you will even budge a little and tell him. Instead, you slowly back away against the metal beams underneath the water tank, as Crowley steps forward towards you in return showing no indications that there's something suspicious going on. The breeze lingers between the both of you, followed by the sound of silence that once had the crickets chirping softy. Your mind manages to get under control, showing no emotion whatsoever like you have been ever since the encounter started. Carefully you think of a way to make your next move worth while; maybe you won't have to shoot him after all.

"By all means, there's no need to rush." He mutters under his breath. "I don't normally bend the rules for such an offer but because you're so silent and eager to prove your worth to me; I could make an arrangement, however it is _not_ an easy process." His lips twitch into a sky smirk once again, moving closer towards you with a certain glint in his eye that triggers another broken flashback to when you were playing outside at a young age, and seeing a man that was a spitting image of Crowley casually walking down the road. He wasn't there to see you or your parents, it was just a random stranger on the street that had caught your attention as a little kid and managed to stick with you up until now. Crowley seems to be a bit hesitant towards you in a strange manner, you instantly feel like glancing behind you towards the Impala but that thought quickly leaves after realizing that it could give away where they are. Silently you pray that they are keeping an eye on what's going on like they said they would; or else this could end up messy for you.

"You do know how us Demons seal the deal, right? Or did you just skip over that Wikipedia article to get to the good stuff?" His lips twitch eagerly, loosening his cuffs on both hands and tugging a little on the collar around his neck, Sam or Dean didn't tell you anything on how Demons seal deals. You have a slight idea, based on how close he's getting to you, but other than that you are completely clueless for once.

You slightly begin to panic, knowing that if Crowley catches on he will not hesitate to kill you in an instant and then go after the boys. His eyes haven't darted anywhere to where the car's parked or hasn't shown any signs that he knows they are here. Maybe Sam was right, since he hasn't seen you around them he doesn't think much of it. Improvising is what you do best, in any given situation you can easily come up with an escape goat; or manipulate whoever you are talking to. Bobby taught you how to be charismatic, polite to an extend, and overall just plain likable among everyone; including Demons for a reason, so it's best that you get right to it.

"Not exactly, but I _think_ I have an idea." You improvise your words, inciting him with your charisma and clearly pleasing him while his eyes light up in amusement. You grab the edge of his suit pulling him in closer towards your lips, slightly regretting what you're about to do but also knowing that it has to seem believable on your part. You suddenly stop just inches away from his face, creating a lot of confusion for him in the meantime.

"What's the matter, nervous? I don't bite-"

Without another word you slam him against the metal that has the circle drawn on it, trapping him against the beam with another one drawn above his head so he can't vanish into thin air. Remembering his words and how smugly he talked about the obvious circle drawn in the dirt, you can't help but smile just a little bit, especially with the cocky behavior he showed before you completely played him straight into the smaller circles without any problems.

"I wasn't worried about that, I was worried about you catching on." You grin, still holding onto his suit with your gentle hands while watching the rage burn through his calm complexion. The words escaping his lips are rather rude and obscene, implying such harsh actions towards you in general, detailing torturous methods as well as empty threats for quite a long time. The headlights flick on and right away you hear the sound of two car doors slamming shut and gravel crunching underneath two pairs of shoes as the boys both appear in your line of sight, with Dean holding the rifle a huge grin across his face, and Sam holding chains, and cuffs imbued with symbols designed to hold the King of Hell himself, looking rather pleased with how well their dumb plan had worked out. You also manage to catch a quick glimpse of Castiel sitting in the back seat of the Impala, staring directly at you with no context before he vanishes instantly and leaving no trace behind to indicate that he was even there in the first place.


	3. Chapter Two: A Small Drive

It's a long drive back towards the Bunker, Dean mentioned something earlier about it being around sunrise by the time you guys make it back, you've been anticipating the long drive back to the safety of your room for a long time now; since most of this is draining your energy which is why you'd rather stay back instead of heading out on the smaller in-town missions Sam finds online. Crowley sits in the back seat beside you, with his wrists in shackles along with an iron clasp around his throat covered in symbols to prevent him from smoking out and leaving behind his body. His eyes are fixated on you and have been for the past hour, usually Dean would just stuff him in the trunk after removing all of the weapons and supplies to the back, but there wasn't enough room to keep everything hidden from wandering eyes so he has to sit next to you for the long drive back, this should be wonderful.

The tires roll around at a rapid pace against the pavement, the dark shadows of the trees along with a few passing by cars on the highway is all you can see out the window, leaving you with the option of burying your face into your phone to surf the internet just to kill time. Sam's already tried talking to Crowley by this point, and so far nothing useful came out of it besides the casual ' _you're going to rot in Hell_ ,' and ' _I'll skin you all alive_.' However, you can't help but notice how strangely fixated Crowley's eyes are on you even after shooting him a few dirty looks.

Eventually you can't ignore the elephant in the room for much longer, and you lift your gaze up from your phone directly to Crowley's and take in a short, deep breath.

"You're starting to freak me out; can you look the other way?" You muster the stubbornness to speak towards him while locking eyes for a brief moment before returning your glance towards your phone. Dean tries to hide his grin along with Sam, knowing them they probably had a small bet going on to how long it would take for you to snap at him. Crowley narrows his hazel eyes understanding your words but showing no sign of stopping what he's doing.

"And you guys aren't any better, why the _Hell_ didn't you tell me that Demons 'seal the deal' by kissing? Especially after the offer _I_ made." You begin to direct some of your pent up anger towards the boys sitting in the front, after all; nobody told you about it. Dean automatically wipes the smirk away from his face along with Sam, they quickly glance at each other one more time before Dean begins to stammer a bit.

"Well you see, if we told you that then you wouldn't have done it; but what really matters here is that you didn't kiss him so you can go on knowing that you've dodged a bullet there." Dean keeps his gaze fixated on the road ahead of him while reaching over and turning up the radio in an effort to mask his slightly awkward emotions, clearly they must have forgot how it worked; because even Sam didn't mention anything about it beforehand.

"Now boys, it's rude to talk about people in front of them, respect your elders." Crowley sarcastically replies, looking bored out of his mind by being trapped in the back seat; instead of instantly teleporting to locations he has to sit in the back of a car like a normal human being.

Dean turns around, leaning against the back of his seat while glaring directly at Crowley. "Yeah okay Grandpa, would you rather be in the trunk? Because I can stop this car at any time and make that happen." Dean threatens, causing Crowley to shut up and glance out the window for a bit. You start to feel a little uneasy, after all you just outplayed the King of Hell; surely he'd want you dead by now and that's probably why he's been staring at you for so long. The rising feeling deep inside your stomach indicates that you're beyond uncomfortable being trapped inside a small car in the back seat with him, but there's nothing you can really do about it.

After a few quiet minutes of silence from everybody, and _Hotel California_ playing in the background you start to feel a little calmer than before and much more relaxed. However you still can't help but notice Crowley's eyes darting around the car and eventually landing onto you even after bluntly telling him to screw off a couple more times. The car ride seems to feel like hours instead of just minutes due to the eerie silence while the boys up in the front try to exchange some small talk about what we're going to do once we get back to the Bunker without hinting at Crowley being locked away in the dungeon for however long it takes for him to open his mouth and tell us everything he knows.

"Well played darling, I wasn't expecting the boys to be involved. May I ask why I'm chained up?" He clears his throat a little, breaking away the eye contact and fixating his stare outside the window towards the vast forest. Sam whips around in his seat, crossing paths with your gaze for a split second before jumping towards Crowley after finally hearing him speak other words besides meaningless threats that he's been spewing for the past little while. He doesn't look too happy, considering Crowley knows fully what he's done to get himself stuck in this mess.

" _Seriously_? You've sent us on a wild goose chase for the past few months, we finally figured out what you've been after and we know you won't give in lightly; so we're going to use force this time. Don't play stupid with us." He seems rather annoyed with Crowley playing the victim, especially after all the driving they've done trying to find the new Prophet. Sam's recently told you about the whole search they've done before receiving that call from Garth on where you were, they were originally on a mission to find the missing clues on the Prophet's whereabouts after their first one was in a freak accident and managed to die of natural causes instead of being ripped apart by some supernatural creature; right before they stumbled across you. Castiel mentioned how whenever the first Prophet dies instantly a new one is chosen from a list of names that seems to go until the end of time itself. Even with a list of names from the future it was still nearly impossible to find the new Prophet before Crowley did, and he led them into several traps around the Country and enjoyed every moment of it.

Crowley's lips tighten while burning his gaze directly towards Sam; I've been told that Crowley's torturing methods have been enhanced over the centuries of him living under the Earth, and how he's done nearly everything in the book. Crowley doesn't show any fear at all when Sam mentioned the word force, instead he smirks at the mere word, and opens his mouth with such ease.

"Do you _honestly_ think that whatever you come up with would be enough to break me, _Moose_? I was there during the Great Wars; I've met some very persuading men with immoral ways of interrogation, and countless other wars in between. _Give it your best shot_." He eyes flourish with bloodlust, returning his fixating gaze towards you while he true self is still showing.

"As for you, I don't need to know your name anymore. You're nothing but a pigeon; full of disease and constantly getting in the way. And once I'm out of these chains you're going to be the first one to _die_." His words spit towards you covered in acid almost, meant to damage your 'fragile' and nonexistent feelings. On an instant without even thinking, you reach over and grab the chains that bind his hands together, pulling him closer towards your face with a menacing glare. You've had just enough of Crowley's narcissistic attitude towards everything that's been going on right now, and you're about to snap.

"You don't frighten me at all, you _will_ break and I _will_ make sure of it myself." Almost everything that Bobby has taught you on self control begins to slip away, you've been trying to fit in for such a long time that the empathy that you were forced to feel for others begins to dissolve along with all the morals you've built with it. Crowley instantly shuts up with a cautious nature and pulls himself away from your grasp without any further conversation. The boys in the front silently stare at each other for a long time after witnessing your self control completely diminish, Sam eventually turns around and meets your eyes with his.

"Maybe you should try to get to some rest, it's been a long day for all of us." He suggests softly, showing that he has a soft side for you despite losing the soul you once had. They both know about it since Castiel had brought it up with them, perhaps it might be in your best interest to regain your self control before any further outbursts happen again in the future considering that everybody they've come across just like you were ripped apart in an instant. You think on Sam's words for a few seconds before mentally agreeing with him, it has been a long day and nothing on the internet seem to catch your attention anymore so maybe it would be wise to catch a few hours of sleep before we arrive back at the Bunker.

"That sounds like a good idea." Your words return back to normal after that small slip up, Dean's eyes glance up in his mirror towards you in a concerning manner, you know that he also won't hesitate to kill you as well as Crowley especially after losing your cool. Everyone that you could think of that had lost their soul was always killed in the end at the hands of Hunters or Demons, so the fact that the Winchesters had given you the benefit of the doubt means that you should probably be on your best behavior from now on and try to keep the little outbursts under control.

You already start to feel the effects of being overtired, especially since you were up for over half the night before studying through a few ancient texts to help Sam with a small project off to the side. He recently found small hint based on the Ten Commandments that strongly hint to an Eleventh one hidden from the human race long ago, he hasn't mentioned it to anyone yet besides you in a small effort to show that he trusts you completely. He did mention that he would bring it up with Castiel since if anybody knew about it, it would be him and to leave Dean with Crowley for the meantime unless plans change earlier on; but other than Sam never mentioned at all about letting Dean know.

Your eyes begin to grow heavy from realizing how tired you really are, and your head slightly begins to slump over against the window as your eyes slowly close with nothing but the soothing rotation of the car steadily moving down the highway to keep you relaxed, your mind begins to wander a bit wondering on what's going to happen next once you get back to the Bunker. Dean's tempted on throwing Crowley down in the dungeon instantly without any other plans, whereas Sam's been thinking about injecting him with human blood in an attempt to get his human side out to tell us everything he knows. And you on the other hand, have been thinking about a few methods as well to get him to talk; such as skinning him alive with the demon knife, or roasting him with holy fire. Maybe after your little outburst the boys will let you handle him instead, while they attend to other missions around the nearby towns. After all, there has been a lot of strange activity around lately, and Castiel has been vouching for you ever since Dean was willing to let you be the main key to the plan from earlier.


	4. Chapter Three: The Bunker in the Storm

The clouds begin to lighten up throughout the drive home ever since you've first closed your eyes, you're greeted with the sound of rain trickling down the back window along with the calming sensation of the raindrops tapping against the Impala's roof. Your eyes groggily open while the boys begin to drag Crowley out from the opposite side, you also notice a fabric bag covering his head in an effort to conceal the location of the Bunker given the fact that no Demon or Angel can enter no matter how many spells they use to break the hex. Your arms stretch out a little in an effort to loosen up your joints after nodding off for the past few hours, the light rainfall outside managed to soak through everything causing a few wet spots on the grass, and several blotchy mud puddles around the gravel. You reach for your bag that was between you and Crowley along with your phone and open the car door after taking a few moments to fully wake up from your nap, you enjoy having the rain stream down and soak everything outside; but from the safety of your own window.

You can't help but think about how Luna's doing, being alone with Castiel whenever he decides to show up that is. We've managed to break a certain spell that would allow a select few Angels to casually come and go as they wish, and so far the only civilized one we've found was Castiel, also during your time with Bobby he decided to find you a small companion since you weren't really fond of other humans; that and he was terrified you'd strangle them to death, and managed to find a stray kitten down town that was covered in filth during one of his errands and took it home with him. Ever since then she's been by your side especially after losing Bobby, and even though Dean wasn't thrilled about her, he still managed to make an agreement since she was technically Bobby's cat too. Your eyes glance around the dreary scene, looking down you notice that there's a puddle starting to form right where you're standing, and decide that it's time to follow the boys and head inside before you get completely soaked from the miserable weather.

Inside the Bunker there's hundreds of small hallways and rooms all conjoined in one way or another, there's a massive garage built on the side that contain dozens of amazing vehicles from the past, and that were also owned by famous Hunters. There's a massive living space with a fireplace and a huge desk, stocked with ancient books everywhere, and there must be over a thousand books before the early 1800s covering anything on witches, or any other type of creature and spell, right into detailed literacy documents on all of the wars that have ever been recorded throughout history. The kitchen is also very spacious, there's at least four main freezers with smaller fridges and a huge kitchen full of cooking supplies. This was once a secure base for the Men of Letters for over two centuries; maybe even longer than that, it's amazing how it hasn't been touched in over seventy years and looks preserved in time while everything else around it has changed drastically.

You begin to take off your shoes by the main entrance when you notice a figure standing down the hallway gazing sharply at you with an unbreakable stare. Gazing up you realize it's Castiel, who's piercing your eyes with his without showing any reason as to why he seems to be furious with you. Confused and highly curious, you decide to engage in small talk just to see how well he takes it, you have no idea why he would be so furious at you considering you haven't done anything wrong to begin with.

"I thought I saw you in the car last night Cas, how was Luna, did she cause you any trouble?" You casually try to make small talk in an effort to steer his angry eyes somewhere else, instead he just stands there in silence for a few more seconds before meeting you halfway down the hall.

"Do not try and change the subject to your cat; she had given me lots of cuddles on the couch earlier and it was quite lovely. And what were you thinking, why would you want to become a Demon after _everything_ we have done for you?" His stern expression hardens once more, sticking his hand inside his coat while pulling out another small dagger aside from his Angel one that resembles a demon knife. Instantly you begin to panic once more, surely the boys went over the plan with Castiel, right?

"Cas it's not what you think, I had to in order to gain Crowley's trust-" you protest a little, defending your end of the plan while watching Castiel's eyes continue to narrow in disbelief.

"And what if you ended up sealing the deal based on an atrocious lie? What if he caught you off guard and sealed it himself? You would have become one of them and then what, we would have had to purify you if you already didn't run off with him by then." He cuts you off with an angry stare, clearly they did try telling him the plan; Castiel just didn't like it. You've never witnessed Castiel this angry before, so naturally you're a bit frightened. You think on a few words to run by him and hopefully calm him down before settling on the usual ' _it's okay_ ' speech.

"It's alright, I'm here now and that's all that matters. Crowley fell for it so everyone wins; well, except for him." Calmly you approach the angry Angel, placing a hand on top of his while showing him a warm smile. You feel his hand tense up before sliding the knife back inside his coat, followed by a heartwarming smile in return, his eyes relax a little as well, showing bits of compassion and sympathy for his recent outburst.

"I apologize, I was not happy with the plan as it could have gone wrong in so many ways, and yes I did show up; you had me fooled with your words earlier so I had to see with my own eyes." He calmly replies, focusing his attention down the hall towards the kitchen. Your mind brings you back to the night where the four of you were shitfaced and Sam started telling you the story of having Castiel as an FBI agent working alongside him when Dean was running off being Dean, how he would try to be the 'bad cop' and confuse the Hell out of everyone he talked to, leaving Sam stuck to fix his mess without cracking up over the Angel's mistakes. according to Castiel he did it based on a TV show he watched while they were motel hopping across the Country and thought it would be effective; you're also pretty sure that he was probably watching porn again without realizing it since that mistake has been made _more_ than once.

Your eyes linger on some of the paintings hanging up on the wall, around the main entrance there's a few 1930s paintings and a small wooden desk that has a vase full of blooming flowers that nobody had left here when we entered the Bunker. They've been blooming for centuries according to Sam, they were once a welcoming gift from one of the Kings in Europe years ago and they haven't stopped blooming since. Hanging above the vase there's a large square-shaped mirror that was said to be Bloody Mary's original mirror which makes you a tad but uneasy around midnight whenever you walk down here at night, as well as a small cat bed underneath the desk for Luna; since this place is so huge there's a dozen of them laying around as well as litter boxes and food in case she wanders off too far from your bedroom.

"Sam mentioned to me about having to leave shortly for an investigation in town in exactly thirty four minutes and twenty seven seconds. He has not said anything on Crowley so I would find him first before they have to leave." Castiel walks beside you towards the kitchen where the basement door is towards the dungeon, you haven't really been down there yet but you kind of already can imagine what it's going to be like once you do head down.

"Thanks Cas, I'll ask them if you have to stay just in case Crowley-" you were cut off mid sentence by the sound of little paws scampering across the floor and leaping up on the table, purring furiously while the Angel himself stands there hunched over scratching Luna's face on top of the counter, gently coaxing her and generally paying no attention to you whatsoever.

"I have always enjoyed cats, they are considered God's independent animals who deserved to be worshipped and treated like royalty. The Egyptians listened well to the messages we have sent out, they were much peaceful than the Europeans about them." Castiel begins his usual rantings of what it was like to be alive in the past, considering he's walked the Earth before it was even formed and generally just a massive fireball spinning around the sun. His stories have captivated you earlier when you first met, the tales he had of the past completely astonished you as you showed full interest in his words unlike Sam or Dean who were more focused on solving their mysteries, history was one of your strong suits and filled you with such curiosity and imagination; so having all of these documents here along with somebody who lived through all of the eras is especially mind boggling to you.

Without another word you leave Castiel and Luna upstairs, opening the steel door that leads down into the depths that has a metallic scent of blood waifing throughout the stale air already. As you make your way down the steps you faintly hear the boys talking in the distance with the solid metal door wide open that leads inside the chamber. Crowley sits there, strapped to a steel chair that's bolted to the floor along with the iron cuffs and chains he's still wrapped in while Sam stands on one side of him, holding a syringe and a bag of blood and injecting straight into Crowley's veins just like he said he would in an attempt to get anything remotely useful out of him; whereas Dean on the other hand begins to pace around like he normally does when he's annoyed with something.

You're not really bothered by the whole scene, considering you've watch countless horror films while living under Bobby's roof and grew rather fond of them. In a way you see them as an outlet, a creative way to express your feelings instead of just hacking and slashing your way through innocent people without a damn care in the world. Your eyes touch contact with Crowley's for a brief second, causing him to focus on you rather than Sam who seems agitated about it.

"Ah, I see Pigeon has _flocked_ towards the sound of people looking for scraps I assume, how _kind_ of you to join us." Crowley pipes up from the sidelines, announcing your arrival to the boys as you peer over the massive metal door spotting the three of them in a massive steel room covered in Devil's traps, with a small table off to the side containing various tools used for interrogation on a regular basis. Sam finishes injecting Crowley once more before setting the needle down on the heavy desk that's also bolted in front of Crowley, his eyes gaze towards you in a slight shock, as if he was expecting you to show up later rather than right now.

The room's almost silent, just quiet enough to hear the rain pounding against the outside portion of the Bunker that's neatly tucked underground. It was only a matter of time before the rain decided to come down in buckets, followed by a few brief thundering echoes across the State.

"So uh, Dean can you take over for a second?" Sam stumbles over his words a bit, before wiping his hands on his jeans and gesturing towards you when Dean turns around to question his sudden change in action. Dean automatically clues in as to why he's asked him to take over, and smiles directly at you while raising his hand giving you a little wave before turning his full attention towards Crowley who's still fixating his gaze contently onto you.

"I didn't think you'd wake up so quickly since you didn't budge when we tried to." He leans against the door acting as if everything's normal while Dean's in the background slamming his hands down against the table and interrogating the King of Hell himself.

"I only need a few hours of sleep, depending on the day. I guess it was the light poking through the clouds that woke me up." You muster a believable answer which is actually quite true; ever since you were young you've always found it hard to sleep through any type of light breaking through, it was also a constant battle between you and Bobby about closing your bedroom door whenever he opened it to drop off Luna, which in the end resulted in having a little box in your closet along with a couple of bowls for food and water.

Sam's eyes look tired, even just the mere thought about sleep is enough to knock him down at any moment. He yawns a bit before covering his mouth, nodding along with the words you've just said.

"It's the same for me, I could never sleep in the car so I understand completely. Dean and I have to head out soon since you look nothing like an FBI agent; I would've taken you instead if it wasn't for the fact that you look like you're still a teenager." His hand reaches for the back of his head while he uncomfortably scratches it like he usually does when situations get awkward for him. You don't take offence to his words anyways, considering you hate being out in public for long periods of time and even though you're amazing at improvising at just about anything; Sam is right, you kind of look like you're eighteen and whenever you guys all head out for drinks you're always doubted of your legal age and either ID'ed right away, or being called out for having a 'fake' ID when in fact yours is the only real one between the three of you.

"It's fine, really. Do you need me to look after him, or are you just going to leave him here unwatched? He is the King of Hell you know, and personally I don't think this cage could hold him; wether it's covered in Devil's traps or not." You bring up your concern on the whole 'leaving Crowley to sulk in his new found human emotion' plan that could easily backfire if he finds a way to escape. Sam's face begins to ponder the words you've said, realizing a bit of sense to them before opening his mouth once more.

"You have a solid point, you did do fairly well in manipulating him and he does need to have a few injections here and there or else we lose whatever process we've made. That and I honestly have no idea how long this will take, there were four bodies found along the beach just a few hours ago, each had a perfect hole cut right through them with missing lungs. So it could be something aquatic that doesn't already 'exist' like a mermaid, or a kraken." His eyes cross over towards Dean who looks like he's about to smack that stupid grin off of Crowley's face at any moment, you can already tell that Dean's fed up with his unbreakable restraint and it's only a matter of time before Dean snaps too and ends up stabbing him through the heart.

Eventually Dean turns around with his back to Crowley and storms off towards Sam and you. "We're leaving early, I've had enough of this jackass." He doesn't even acknowledge your existence let alone Sam's while he marches up the steps and disappears through the door. Sam's face cracks up into a small grin, before turning around to face you one more time.

"Like I said before, if he doesn't talk don't worry; he will once his human side comes out I've seen it happen before back when we tried to seal the Gates." He pats you on the shoulder while giving you his famous awkward smile before heading up the stairs after his brother. "Oh. And one more thing; try not to kill him, we need him alive for just a bit longer." He calls towards you, disappearing through the door after Dean as the two of them make their way back to the Impala for an hour long drive into town.

As soon as the boys leave the room, you begin to hear Crowley shift around against his chair, turning towards him you also notice a small grin carved into his face.

"What's the matter sweetheart, I don't bite. Now that the boys are gone we can _finally_ have that one on one talk I've been dying to have." Crowley's lips curl into a small smirk, as he already begins to taunt you in a flirtatious manner, making you instantly realize why Dean was so easy to lose his temper beforehand at the Demon strapped to the steel chair.

You take in a deep breath before entering the room behind you, realizing that Crowley wants you beyond dead after what you did to him. The thunder rumbles overhead, shaking the top half of the Bunker as well as rattling the old steel steps in front of you. Your mind keeps replaying the promises you've made to your parents about keeping everything under control and trying not to slaughter innocent bystanders since it's wrong, and only serial killers throw fits that generate nationwide searches just to be thrown in jail for the rest of their lives. You can almost hear Bobby's words debating the actual option of succumbing to the malevolent intentions that your mind can create on a whim, the real reason why he made you a Hunter wasn't for revenge for your parents' death; it was because you don't have a soul, so your feelings wouldn't get in the way of putting a beast like Crowley out if it's misery for good, which is what you intend to do after you get the signal from the Winchesters.


	5. Chapter Four: Tapping the Veins

After having Crowley sit there and make several combinations of sexual slurs, and gory threats towards you for the past several minutes while injecting him with high amounts of human blood, your fingers finally grasp for the syringe one last time along with the almost empty blood bag that Sam's been using to feed through Crowley's system before he left for the past hour and a half. Crowley raises his eyebrow to you, almost as if he's surprised that you're still attempting to break him, all while keeping quiet and having his dazed out stare lingering over you with no intentions of stopping any time soon, as you insert the needle in his arm for the fifth time.

"You know darling, you've been _awfully_ good to me this past little while, and it's such a shame that you don't want to be a Demon. Think of all the fun we could have just you and _me_." His words quiet down, almost as if he doesn't want to say the last bit."Ruling Hell _together_." His lips quietly twitch, followed by his words slurring from the amount of blood you've been feeding through his veins. His face looks more tiresome, while his eyes begin to slightly droop downwards like somebody that's been abusing substances. You instantly can see all of his anger and fury being dispelled by the effects of the human blood coursing through his veins while his words begin to come out sloppy, and right away you can tell that his true emotions are moving closer to the surface.

You've already tried asking him about the whereabouts of the Codex, but judging from all of his answers it appears that the Codex is the _least_ thing that's on his mind. That and Sam told you not to worry if you couldn't get it out of him; just as long as he's hopped up on human emotions by the time they get back they'd deal with him their way and usually that means the extreme; by using whatever means necessary to get him to talk.

"Is that so? After _all_ the times I told you to keep your grimy eyes off of me, I don't recall _ever_ being nice to you." Casually you lean against the table just inches away from his face, you can't help but smirk after realizing that he has no more will left in him to insult you anymore, let alone even hold a conversation. For a few seconds, Crowley's eyes slowly begin to widen the longer he stares into your soulless eyes, and eventually his mouth gapes open in shock.

"Well I'll be damned, you don't have a bloody _soul_." He remarks, trying to break away from your gaze but finding it hard to do so. His facial expression shows more than just him being surprised; you can almost feel his pupils burning into yours as if he's trying to read right through you to see who you really are inside. You almost feel flattered that he acknowledged your lack of soul like it was privilege, however you know it's the complete opposite because you were raised knowing that every human born has a soul, and can experience the simple joys of life; and that only monsters didn't have a soul, and were doomed to live in purgatory. Deep down inside you finally start to realize that maybe you and Crowley have a lot more in common than you'd like to admit. Despite his erratic behavioral changes due to the blood, you can't honestly tell what his true emotions are. Sam hasn't told you how much blood it would take to show the real him, he only suggested that you poke him several times and see what happens so really it's all trial and error from here on out.

"I thought you would have noticed by now, after all you're the King of Hell. But then again, you didn't suspect anything when I summoned you." Your lips curl into a sneer, starting to feel that lack of control over your actions once more, you start to feel your eyes glaze over masking the human emotions you've tried so hard to mimic, only to be interrupted by Crowley letting out a long sigh and focusing his wandering gaze back to you after taking a few moments to gaze around the room.

"How about you shut up for once in your life _Pigeon_ ; acknowledge the sexual tension between the two of us, and just _kiss me already_." He almost screams the words in your face, leaving himself just as surprised as you are; silencing whatever thought you had next as well as himself given the fact that he knows he would've never even said that if you haven't been feeding his human side. Instantly you pull away from him, repulsed by his demanding offer and slightly concerned for him as well. You subconsciously reach for the demon knife that's laying down on the table beside you and clench it with your fingers, feeling relieved that you've finally figured out the amount of blood to use to crack him open, but oddly enough you're a bit cautious around him now that you truly know what's been on his mind for the past while now.

Silence breaks out around the both of you, circulating through the dull room like a lingering sour scent. You realize that he also isn't happy with how easy it was for you to break into his locked emotions, especially after sharpening them for decades to make sure that nobody ever saw the true him. Crowley holds your gaze once more, hesitating on finding the right words to say to you before you could even get a sentence in.

"That's all I ever wanted was to be loved, do you think that spending centuries down here will mask the burden of an eternal life full loneliness? It doesn't. Don't I at least _deserve_ to be loved?" His eyes softly begin to mist a little, showing genuine compassion and overall an emotion that he hasn't felt in a very long time directly aimed towards you in one massive swing. Even you weren't prepared for this at all, in fact the last thing that lingered through your mind about Crowley was him finding someone to spend eternity with, rather than the usual 'hard to get' personality he portrays by hiding information to control the herd of Demons pouring into Earth, and mentally terrorizing the Winchesters every chance he can get. Your grip tightens on the handle of the knife, causing him to tense up knowing very well that the knife can easily end his reign over Hell and his burdened life with just one strike. If anything, you'd be doing him a favor by piercing it through his heart right now; but you already made a promise to Sam on keeping him alive until they returned, so that's going to have to wait.

"After everything you've done in the world, you don't deserve to be loved." Without even thinking, your voice manages to come out a bit dark, avoiding his eyes while leaving him there chained to the steel chair you begin to turn around, walking towards the entrance of the massive dungeon and closing the steel doors behind you while Crowley sits there in silence, covered by the darkness from the closing doors and the depressing chamber that he's tethered to; leaving him there to think on your words that you've told him, in silence and in solitude.

* * *

The hot water streams down your body while the steam clings to the moisture in the air, creating a haze throughout the bathroom while you stand there in the shower, letting the water repeatedly hit your skin over and over again with your head gazing down towards the drain in the center of the stall; pondering over the events that recently just happened down in the dungeon with Crowley. You can't help but also feel sorry for him based on the empathy you've managed to replicate, you haven't really thought about living for an eternity all alone; and quite honestly the thought of it absolutely sucks so you can't really blame him for burying it deep down inside, however the whole bit referring to you.. That was quite _something_.

Your hair hangs over your shoulders completely soaked, letting the droplets of hot water drip down towards the floor as the shower head continues to pump out gallons of hot water over you. Castiel tried asking you what was wrong when you emerged from the dungeon, but you just breezed right past him and headed upstairs to the massive bathroom in an attempt to clear your mind with a hot shower followed by curling up in your own bed for the night, he seemed generally worried about you since you've been down in the dungeon with Crowley for almost two hours, even Luna was getting fidgety which is a first considering she usually doesn't care about whatever you're doing; just as long as she sees you at least once a day in this Bunker full of twists and turns. ' _That's all I ever wanted was to be loved_ ,' his words echo throughout your mind, leaving you feeling a slight connection to him in a sense that you don't have a soul; so therefore you can't love, or feel loved either.

You almost hate yourself for empathizing with him, you're well aware of what he's capable of doing to humans, let alone the Winchesters. But you also have a lingering feeling about the boys ever since Castiel has shown you the past. The Hunter's tavern was burned to the ground as a result of them showing up, Ellen and Jo ended up dying under Crowley's thumb, and they were the sole reason why Bobby didn't make it back alive to London in time for your graduation.

' _Do you think that spending centuries down here will mask the burden of an eternal life full loneliness_?' Your hand rests on the edge of the tap. ' _It doesn't_.' Your eyes gaze forward while trying to think of a reasonable explanation as to why his human side is full of torment, pain, and suffering instead of giving him the usual human guilty conscious to the point where he'd just give in already and reveal the location of the Codex; along with some hint about the Eleventh Commandment.

' _Don't I at least deserve to be loved_?' Your knees already feel weak from over thinking everything too much, eventually you're kneeling on the shower stall floor, watching the hot water drip down your body towards the drain while wishing Sam and Dean would return soon to help deal with this issue you've gotten yourself into. The water continues to endlessly pour out, leaving you stuck in the trance created by your own mind.

After what feels like several minutes trapped inside your own thoughts, trying to drown them out with the steam; a sudden burst of wind emerges around the steamy room, confusing you greatly while you reach for the towel that's hanging off to the side to wrap yourself up before peering over the shower curtain. Expecting to see Castiel since you technically blew him off; you nearly jump backwards after seeing Crowley standing there in the middle of the room, straightening out the cuffs on his suit while adjusting his tie, glancing up towards the foggy mirror in an attempt to seem presentable after supposed to be sitting chained to a desk. Words can't describe how shocked you are right now, you always knew that stupid dungeon wouldn't be enough to contain the King of Hell but you didn't expect him to end up here; especially during this time.

"Y-you were downstairs, why are you up _here_ -" You stammer, unable to think of anything else to say while pulling the curtain over your body without removing your eyes from him, he flashes you a quick smirk still standing in the center of the room completely un-phased over the fact that you're in the shower.

"What part of ' _I'm a Demon_ ' don't you understand, sweetheart? I can send out projections of myself anywhere in the world; I'm still trapped downstairs, you don't have to rush." He leans against the counter with a snarky attitude, clearly he still seems a little groggy from the blood since he's quite agitated and can't really stand upright at the same time.

"Then why the _Hell_ are you here?" You defensively retort, staying in your shower of warmth while avoiding his eyes as best as you can, he can't help himself but let out a small, arrogant laugh while letting his eyes wander around the room, admiring the stone decorations along with a few paintings hanging against the wall by the cabinets, and a small rock fountain that sits off to the side of the massive bathroom.

"Because I've been thinking about what you said; and you're right, I _don't_ deserve anything after everything I've done." His voice hangs in the air with a lingering feeling that he had taken your words to heart; or _whatever_ he has left of one before he faces the mirror, writing a few words against the steamed stained surface. "So you want to know about the Codex? _It doesn't exist_. I made it up to toy with the Winchesters and that's that. And that Eleventh Commandment you and Sam have been so _giggly_ over? That's for Demons only, and you're not going to figure it out any time soon; no matter what you do to me, _love_." He slowly approaches the edge of the shower stall, taking his finger and drawing an arrow pointing towards the mirror against the steamy glass, followed by drawing a small heart, with a cheeky wink.

Snapping his fingers he instantly vanishes into thin air; hopefully he's still trapped downstairs or else the boys are screwed. You feel a bit irritated, especially knowing that he can create illusions despite being chained up along with the whole Codex bit, since they were really relying on finding it instead of the Prophet. But if that's the case then how come Castiel agreed to knowing about it throughout the years? He probably just forgot a few details, either that or Crowley is trying to detour you away from the truth surrounding the Codex in general. Usually you enjoy the quiet time when the boys are out and it's just you and Castiel if he isn't doing anything; but right now you're beyond wishing they would return soon before you snap and do something you'd regret.

After a few moments of pondering the idea of leaving the shower, you manage to muster up the courage to turn off the running water, carefully holding the towel around your body you take a step out into the cool air, following the arrow towards the mirror where Crowley left a simple message for you to find;

 _-I know where your soul is.-_

Your eyes widen, unable to recall any other events from the past that resembles a man looking like Crowley, however there was a seemingly harmless kid that you grew up with who was always a bit strange and acted quite off from the rest of your small group of friends. You reach for your clothes that were left alone on the edge of the counter, drying yourself off before getting dressed and turning out the bathroom light, leaving the small fountain trickling water between the smooth pebbles in the dark. Your feet lightly step down the stairs towards the main floor, peeking around the edge of the corner expecting to see Crowley again but instead it's just Castiel who catches your eyes and eagerly jumps up from the dining room chair.

"They will be home shortly-" His voice breaks your thoughts circulating throughout your mind, stopping mid sentence due to the sound of your voice hastily cutting him off.

"Is Crowley still in the basement?" Your words sound a bit harsh towards the Angel, full of curiosity and paranoia surrounding the subject since he instantly appeared inside the bathroom just moments before. Castiel's face twists into a confused glance, his eyes trail towards the basement door before returning to yours.

"I was just down there and he was still in place. Is something the matter?" He questions you, standing beside the table with a small half empty glass of whiskey and a couple of books of his own, probably trying to figure out the whereabouts on the Codex that Crowley must've lied about. You don't want to bring up the whole bathroom experience in case Castiel heads down there and torments him, even though you should tell him it's best to just wait until Sam and Dean return from their little road trip.

"Everything's good, I'm just paranoid about the dungeon and leaving him there alone is all." You state half the truth, without even having to hesitate and think of any words. You don't think he would take too kindly knowing that Crowley can still appear anywhere in the world even though it could be a bit of a problem; but since he has human emotions tormenting away at his mind you don't feel like he'll try to flee especially after that confession he made earlier to you. The storm still rages on throughout the night sky, even though there are no windows anywhere you can still feel the rumbling sounds of the thunder roaring on above, followed by the streaks of rain repeatedly slamming into the ground and the Bunker for the past few hours. You slightly worry about the road conditions for the boys, considering that an accident could happen whenever but your mind stays firm on waiting until they return to bring up Crowley's magic tricks.

"Alright, strange one..." Castiel narrows his eyes towards you as you turn around and head back up the steps towards your room. The message Crowley wrote in the fog still lingers throughout your mind, you also know that he's used to manipulating everybody around him which makes you a bit uneasy with his words, yet you still can't help but feel a bit curious since after all; it is your soul.

You carefully shut the door behind you, revealing a simple room that has a small sitting area by the window ledge with a few pillows and blankets, followed by a decent bed that has a desk and a lamp for reading. There's still a few ancient novels thrown on top of the desk since you've been meaning to get into them, two of them are related to the history of the supernatural creatures whereas another one is a spell book labeled ' _Benignus et Malignus Maleficis Artibus Inserviebat_ ' which has a full list of extremely old spells, hexes, and curses from the 1100s straight up until the early 1900s. You've skimmed through it rather quickly, noting a few useful spells at keeping Demons away from certain places that last until the end of time; or until they find a powerful counterspell to destroy the previous one. Your tired eyes gaze over towards the wall, seeing a quick flash of an outline that resembles Crowley before doing a double-take and realizing nothing is there, yet you have a strange feeling that he's still around the area.

You eventually collapse against the bed; disturbing Luna's sleep before she gets up and moves towards one of the pillows beside your head. Castiel said they'd be back any minute so hopefully they've found something useful in order to get Crowley to talk. Your mind still stays hooked on the words written across the mirror, you can't help but actually wonder if he does know where your soul is, despite not having one for your entire life it wouldn't hurt to see what you were missing out on. Carefully you reach over the ledge towards the lamp and turn it off, wrapping yourself up in the blankets while listening to the sound of the rain falling around you, with a few thundering noises in the mix.


	6. Chapter Five: Nathaira

The weather outside has taken a turn for the better, replacing the horrendous wind with a soft gentle breeze, and the grey skies with a brighter tone of blue, along with the sunlight soaking up the remaining wet patches in the grass and in the gravel. The morning was fairly brief; Sam went straight to you the second they got back early in the morning and exclaimed in great detail how it was a small group of Mermaids trying to become human using dark magic; which ended in bloodshed as usual, and the boys emerged victorious while taking care of the issue. He also mentioned about Crowley's strange behaviour and how unusually silent he's been since they arrived, instead of his usual sly comebacks and constant singing; ' _butchering classic rock songs_ ' as Dean puts it, he apparently just sat there with his head hanging, unresponsive to Sam's interrogation tactics. So far you haven't heard anything let alone see his illusions anywhere ever since last night. You did however, bring up the fact that Crowley can still conjure up images wherever he pleased which created a bit of friction between the brothers, resulting in Dean heading down there for the remainder of the morning in an attempt to get him to speak, followed by Sam turning his attention towards those dusty books on the shelves to see if they can cancel Crowley's disappearing act.

All in all it's been a fairly normal morning, minus the disturbing noises emitting from the basement, along with the sickening smell of blood lingering throughout the air. Not to mention later after telling Sam about Crowley's illusions, you brought up how he told you that the Eleventh Commandment was for 'Demons only' and that no matter what he was put through he wouldn't speak about it, causing Sam to get a tad bit irritated with our dead end progress and attempting to raise the level of torture to uncover the truth.

The kitchen seems to be empty, Sam recently walked in looking for a glass of water with a strained expression plastered across his face, implying that the tedious page flipping has gotten to him too, while Castiel took off an hour or two ago in hopes of finding the last few ingredients for a location spell based around the Prophet that Sam had found in an old Latin book. The boys insisted that you stayed up here for a bit before heading downstairs to essentially check on Crowley for when they head out to town to grab groceries, and whatever else they need; mainly it was Dean insisting whereas Sam just wanted you to check in on him and inject him every half an hour. They both said unison that they have no idea when they'd be back, given the fact that wherever they go they always attract a crowd of trouble; that and recently Dean's been cracking down hard on Crowley since sunrise, literally and figuratively speaking.

Despite everything that happened yesterday you still can't help but feel bad for Crowley, especially after hearing his tortured screams from the kitchen due to mostly Dean interrogating him in the dungeon, you don't feel _entirely_ bad for him considering he supposedly has your soul, and the empty threats he spat at you in the car, implying your death in great detail, however you also don't know how to react if you ever do get your soul back from him based on how long it's been missing from your body. You carefully raise the spoon with a small heaping amount of cereal to your mouth as Luna sits on the table beside your bowl; listening the muffled cries from the King of Hell, slightly ruining your good mood. You can tell Dean amplified the procedures to try to get him to talk, based on the increased howls of terror and pain followed by the unmistakable metallic scent of fresh blood mixed with sulphur gives you the impression that downstairs might be painted red from rage; and blood.

After taking a few bites you set the spoon down in the bowl, gently reaching for Luna's head while scratching it lightly, pondering over if it would be a good idea to go downstairs and check in on everyone, given the fact that Dean's been known to go overboard sometimes when given the option of controlling somebody's fate and since Sam isn't down there with him; there's a high chance that he did end up going a bit crazy. Your mind thinks back on Crowley, despite everything you've done; tricking him into being captured, showing no signs of remorse, and especially hitting him where it hurts as a human; in the emotions, you can't help but wonder why he's so calm around you after hearing all of these negative things about him, and how manipulative he is. All in all it's causing a bit of conflicting factors on whether or not it's Crowley who shouldn't be trusted, or the boys themselves with their hidden secrets from each other.

You quietly get up from the wooden chair, placing a hand on the doorknob and turning it slowly, hearing bits and pieces of the conversation with each step you take towards the dungeon. Mostly it's just Dean trying to be intimidating, followed by a combination of Crowley's stupid shit-eating grin accompanied with witty comebacks, and eventually a sound that resembles a slab of meat being slammed against a table, ending with a horrendous ear splitting screech and the sound of metal scraping against metal. Eventually you reach the damp holding cell, the smell of blood intensifies with every step you take towards the massive steel doors.

Usually you're not terrified of Dean, after all you put him on his ass and nearly shot him in the head when he arrived at Bobby's coordinates across the sea when they came to get you. You spent your remaining late teenage years in England in the hopes of escaping some of the madness being unleashed in the States, all though there's thousands of Hunters worldwide; a majority of the horrible events take place in North America just by sheer coincidence. During your time in Bristol you've _rarely_ come across any demon of some sort, and when you did they either fled before you could kill them or you took their life with your identical demon knife given to you by Bobby before he left. That and recently you befriended a small nest of old fashioned Victorian vampires after they saved you from a clan of Werewolves a few years back, after tracking a demon far out around the outskirts of the UK. Despite your orders from Bobby to track and kill every inhuman creature you come across, you were astonished by the hospitality and well mannered creatures who protected you from incoming threats, so in return you had given them protection from other Hunters and new nests that began to pop out around the UK. They were well aware that you were technically their enemy but they never tried to double cross you or transform you into one of their own, helping you realize that not all supernatural creatures are described as bloodthirsty fiends who feast on humans; however since you've arrived in North America in particular, you've noticed anything that isn't considered human has been digging in and causing trouble without a care in the world, tainting the good names of very few monsters across the world.

Your eyes meet with Dean for a brief second, who let's out a small defeated sigh while tossing the knife against the bolted down steel table beside a couple of empty blood bags with a third one slightly full still, and the same syringe you and Sam used to inject Crowley for the emotional trauma.

"Aren't _you_ up a little early, it's only eight-thirty. If anything I expected Sam to be down here before you." He practically mumbles the words, lately he's been even more sour ever since they both returned home, and it appears that he's been taking his anger out on Crowley with the amount of blood that's all over the floor and the chair. It takes you a moment to gather your words, since you've never witnessed this much blood in person before. The sight doesn't sicken you at all, if anything it makes you slightly uncomfortable since Dean was the one to do all of this. You have had your moments were you just wanted to give into your restraint and follow his path by carving human flesh and leaving a trail of blood behind; but your self control limits you greatly, separating you from any other soulless human that walks this Earth.

"Oh _I'm sorry_ , I couldn't sleep with all the noise coming from this room." You shift your gaze from Dean's over towards Crowley, who's covered in his own blood, followed by a few cuts along his face and neck, and torn spots in his pants around his thighs that are drenched in the fresh crimson liquid. Overall his well kept manner fell apart after being doused in his own blood, sweat, and tears. Dean smiles a little and gestures toward Crowley who has his head hanging down low, avoiding to make eye contact with you which is highly unnatural considering he always stares intently at you whenever you end up down here; or just around him in general.

"Well blame _Peter Bull_ here, he won't keep quiet and cooperate with me, I just want to figure out where the Codex is and how he can still create those _damn_ illusions after every spell we've laced those chains in." Annoyed, he rests his hands on the edge of the table, leaning back with his body faced towards you in a boring manner. You can tell that Dean doesn't really want you here, after all the two of you have had conflicts in the past and he's still unsatisfied with you tagging along now. All though you guys have similar interests, pie is a creation from the Celestial beings above, listen to the same music, and almost drive the same car, a 1969 Charger paired with his Impala; you both still have your differences. He has gotten a little better with you being around, however now isn't the time to bring that up with him; especially when he's in this mood.

"Are you done here? Or are you staying for the show, because I'd like to get back to what I was doing." Dean's eyes burn into yours with a desire for bloodshed, silently you nod your head before saying anything else to set him off. A part of you doesn't understand why Sam left him alone with Crowley, knowing that he can snap easily and let the knife drive in too deep and kill him, but the other side understands fully; Dean is more terrifying without Sam around because he can't be held back once he loses control, and he already has a short temper. Ever since Dean came back from Hell he's been a little different, he's more into the torture methods and gets easily irritated unlike before. Castiel has told you about the past as best as he could, all while showing you a few events that happened by taking you back in time to see them for yourself.

Dean flashes you a quick smirk, whipping around and taking the demon knife in one hand, and grabbing Crowley by the back of the head lifting him up to eye level. Your eyes slightly widen, both shocked and impressed at the amount of damage Dean has done. Crowley's face seems to be covered in dried blood from the previous wounds that Dean inflicted on him several minutes ago, followed by his hazel eyes losing all hope in escaping with his dignity while showing actual human signs of simple wear and tear from being held captive.

"I'm getting tired of your games Crowley, either you tell us where the Codex is, or you tell us about your little _Houdini_ act, and how to stop it before we have Demons showing up at our door, and crawling up our asses." He presses the blade against his neck creating a small red line that begins to trickle down his skin, forcing Crowley to make eye contact with him, but instead his eyes fall upon you for a brief moment. Your body stays halfway towards the table, frozen almost while Crowley's eyes shift towards Dean in a sly manner. Despite how much you want to move towards the two of them you simply can't bring yourself to do it, so instead you stand far away to avoid the blood splattering over your clothes; watching from a safe distance.

"Now Squirrel I know you won't kill me _right_ away, or else I would've been dead by now; especially not in front of _Pigeon_." His hoarse voice breaks the silence, followed by his fragile lips curling into a small sneer causing Dean to grow impatient, and angry. Dean takes the knife and drives it deep inside Crowley's thigh once more, causing another nerve shattering scream as the blade tears through his flesh. Eventually Dean pulls the blood soaked knife out and sets it down on the table once more, and slams his clenched fist against the side of Crowley's face as hard as he can, unsatisfied with that hit he swings again, just as hard and in the same place.

Your mind is completely unhinged from how Dean's attempting to break Crowley, the only logical thought circulating through your mind is about Crowley; and how come he won't give up any information to stop the torture. He didn't have _any_ problem telling you about the Eleventh Commandment when you were alone, and he was even ballsy enough to show you his illusion trick as well. It could possibly have something to do with the human blood being injected through his veins, since before Sam started to do that Crowley seemed rather content on killing you and happily spilled his threats towards you more than he would to the boys.

"I can do this _all day_ ,-" Dean's words were cut off by the sound of Sam entering the room with a book in his hand, and the car keys in the other. His body language seems to be heightened as well as his concern for whatever's been bugging him all morning.

"I bet you can, but Cas is in trouble so you can't. I guess the Man upstairs cut him off from his powers and he's stuck downtown surrounded by Demons. I'd go alone but they're looking for Crowley and I don't want to be caught dead with them, especially if I take her with me." Sam's face tightens, showing his concern for Castiel along with how dire and serious this is for the three of us. You're a bit flattered over the fact that Sam was willing to take you instead of Dean to rescue Castiel, however he does have a point of it being too risky if you get caught. Dean looks annoyed once again, holding the fist he was using to cause damage while glaring at Crowley who still manages to keep his shit-eating grin in his face despite everything Dean has done to him, causing Dean to grow even more furious.

"Oh _come on_ , I was getting to the best part." Dean sighs once more, grabbing the knife off of the table while walking past you, shoving it in your hands. "Do _whatever_ it takes to get him to talk, castrate him if you have to; we want answers and we want them _now_." Dean's voice darkens quite a bit, shooting Crowley a quick glare before returning his dark green eyes to you. There's something about his tone that generates a small bit of terror deep inside you, creating a small lump in your throat which holds you back from saying anything to both of them.

Sam stands beside the door, highly disgusted by Dean's mess while also feeling a bit sorry for Crowley, you can see it in his eyes that he's glad to take Dean away from this Hellish scene and to let you step in as a second method to get answers. Despite not having a soul, the worst you could do to Crowley would pale in comparison to Dean's bloody mess. Without another word, Dean shoves past Sam who's standing in the entrance and takes off up the steps towards the parked Impala outside, Sam looks at you with a worried expression, even without speaking a word to him you know right away that he's concerned for not only saving Castiel, but pulling his brother out of his small power trip. Crowley doesn't say anything, he sits there covered in blood with a zoned out gaze in his eyes, almost as if he's about to pass out from the blood loss. Eventually Sam heads up the solid steps after Dean, in the hopes of reaching Castiel first before the Demons take advantage of him not being able to smite them; let alone flee from their grasp and get to safety.

"Are you going to try to break me too, _darling_? I might get off to your torturous methods, love." He lifts his head, still holding that same grin he had for Dean while coughing up a bit of blood, your mind doesn't take pity on him but you do decide to settle for a lesser method of inflicting physical pain on him. Ignoring his words you reach for the syringe and the blood bag, poking the needle through the plastic you begin to fill the syringe with the liquid that usually ends up making him talk; especially to you.

"I was thinking of a more _civilized_ way, just a talk between the two of us; after all, yesterday you said you'd want to." Casually you walk towards him, the bottom of your shoes slightly stick to the floor from the blood that's still there, while you carefully roll up one of his sleeves to expose his butchered arm.

Crowley let's out a small defeated sigh. " _Oh please_ , I have enough human emotion coursing through my veins to supply the both of us." He mumbles, shooting you a dirty glare as the needle pierces his skin and empties the remaining human blood inside his system. Instead of spewing other nonsense words he just sits there immobilized, gazing off into the distance while letting the blood work its way through his body. His fingers slightly twitch before he returns his gaze towards you.

The room is filled with silence for several minutes between the both of you, your mind wanders to the broken fragments of your past, still trying to piece together where you'd met Crowley before. Nothing seems to be adding up in your mind, considering you've been in Bristol for several years and not _once_ has the King of Hell shown himself there, and Bobby made sure to hide you from everyone when you were living with him as a child; so how come he looks so familiar to you?

"You're beautiful, have the boys ever told you that before?" His words slur a bit as if he's drunk, causing you to instantly hesitate on continuing the injections. You're already well aware of Crowley's behaviour towards you when he has his human side showing, however you still don't know if he can lie to you like he usually does when he's like this. His words don't phase you, after all he was the one who finally clued in that you don't have a soul, and you lack the basic human emotions that run off from his manipulation tactics. His hazel eyes linger on yours once more, trying to conceal whatever else he has left to say before it snowballs into another episode like yesterday.

"What the _Hell_ are you rambling on about now, either tell me about the Codex or-" your words were cut off by his, your fingers clench the blood soaked knife that Dean passed to you tightly, a part of you doesn't want to succumb to Dean's level of twisted punishment but the other half wants to dive right in and cause damage just to prove it to Dean that you can be useful.

"Or show you where your soul is. I promise that I do know where it's hiding. Sweetheart, I've been looking for you for a _long time_ ; we're a lot alike you and I, have you ever wondered why?" He finishes your sentence along with adding a few words of his own. His hoarse voice cracks a little bit, while his eyes gaze up at yours once more. Stunned, you fall silent. Dropping the knife to the floor as it clatters against the metal. You already had a small idea that you and Crowley were a lot alike in both states; given the fact that neither of you have a soul, and he appears to be a social outcast who's only place where he fits in is 'down below'. You also have that familiar feeling that you've known him from somewhere as well, just like those distorted childhood flashbacks you had back at the crossroad despite never setting foot in this State before. Your mind drifts back to England, when you were living with the Victorian Vampires and even they agreed that something was different about you, something powerful and special at the same time but neither of them could remember the name or recall the event; all they said was you were different from the other Hunters, and even though you had not a single shred of emotion inside, you still managed to surpass any other human who lacked a soul as well.

Crowley notices your deep hesitation, his head drops down for a minute before heaving another deep sigh and meeting your gaze with his once more.

"You belong in Hell, _with me_. Your soul was hidden until I found you again after you died centuries ago. I had to make sure it was you, and you're a spitting image of her; _my beautiful Nathaira_."


	7. Chapter Six: Making a Deal

Your eyes widen greatly after Crowley finishes his sentence, followed by the sound of the knife clattering against the metal floor in the massive open space once again, echoing throughout the room as it slips through your fingers from the shock. A light scurrying noise can be heard from upstairs, and eventually the sound of scampering paws are heard coming down the dungeon's steps, followed by Luna sitting attentively by the door with her eyes piercing Crowley in a defensive way. You still can't believe the words you've heard coming out of Crowley's mouth, if anything the day after yesterday you just met him for the first time; so why is he all of a sudden acting as if he knows you from somewhere else?

"Going to drop it for a third time?" He sneers with his words slurring together, forcing out a small smirk in your direction. You can't help but try to restrain yourself from driving it inside his thigh as well, instead you focus on the name he recently said; creating a strange yet familiar feeling inside of you.

' _My beautiful Nathaira_.'

Your head stings a little as that name lingers throughout your conscious, you also muster the courage to regain mental control after hearing the name Nathaira since it appears to be having a serious impact on you eternally, as odd as it sounds that name does ring a bell; along with a strange memory straight from the past that you had no idea about it existing.

A flashback appears as clear as day itself within seconds of hearing that name, a small village lined with tiny houses made from material that nobody uses today stands before you surrounded by open fields and a bit of forestry, as well as the old fashioned clothing woven together hastily with a few poor stitches here and there worn by the people inside your mind. The air smells nice and fresh, as well as the sky looks clear despite the present time's pollution slowly decaying away in the atmosphere. Castiel has shown you places from the past before, so right away you kind of have a guess on where you are. People smile brightly towards you as you make your way down the dirt road towards a weather-worn tavern of some sort. A few women dislike you instantly but the rest seem to respect your space, as well as the men who can't help but ogle you while you walk by as if you were a fancy object of status. Your fingers grasp for the door handle on the fragile looking wooden shack as you enter into a familiar scent of alcohol and cigar smoke surrounded by the musky scent of drunken men, and cheap perfume. The second you enter the tavern, you instantly recognize Crowley sitting alone in the corner, wearing a lesser version of his fancy suit while looking more shaken up with stress, and less chaotic in general indicating that he must've been a human around this time. His eyes lock onto yours once again, before showing a small, gleaming smile aimed towards you through the crowd of drunken people almost as if he knew who you were the second you walked in.

Your mind snaps out of the illusion of the small village, returning you back inside the dungeon with Crowley chained and still covered in his own blood from before. You're well aware that what you've seen was a glimpse of a past life or something like that, considering it felt too real for it to be just a random thought, or a random link between you and him.

Your ears begin to ring a little in the empty room, the sound of silence fills you with comfort as Luna paces back and forth irritated at this entire situation. You notice Crowley's eyes gaze downwards at the floor towards her while her tail flicks wildly at him, hooking her eyes deeply inside of his. You can almost feel him swell with an uncomfortable expression surrounding Luna, he probably isn't fond of cats like Dean, however you also can't help but ponder for a bit over this odd situation. She hops up on the desk without making a noise, causing him to flinch in his chair, and avoid her eyes while she bends her nose down to one of the blood stains and sniffs it for a quick second. She eventually turns around and sits down with her back facing Crowley, and her eyes piercing yours with an odd sensation that you can only describe with a few simple words such as comfort, and awareness.

"What are you going on about? I don't have time for your games." You try to regain your seriousness from the amount of shock you feel, as well as that strange memory that still sits in the back of your mind, not to mention Luna's sudden interest in being down here has taken you by surprise. Slightly bending over, you scoop up the blood soaked knife and set it down on the metal table beside Luna; giving Crowley your full attention.

His hazel eyes widen a little, darting between the knife and you before he coughs up a little bit of blood from Dean's actions. You can see his eyes barely staying focused due from the blood loss and the amount of injections he's withstanded over the past ten hours as they slightly begin to roll back inside his head, the ripped fabric hangs loosely from his clothes as well as whatever bare skin showing is stained dark red, Dean obviously hasn't wasted any time digging in considering Demons regenerate quickly; and given his actions you can't help but feel slightly remorseful for even _thinking_ about torturing him earlier before. Despite not having a soul, Bobby has managed to help separate your hatred between doing your job, and innocent people; however Crowley isn't innocent, and you have no idea why you're even hesitating on slitting his throat.

His attention immediately grips you back into reality, shaking his head repeatedly before even opening his mouth to begin voicing his statement.

"No, no, no, _really_. If you just listen to me I could show you who you really are; I know why you don't have a soul, and it's not because your foolish parents were careless enough to risk it." His words come out scratched and hoarse, wheezing almost from the amount of damage Dean had caused prior to. Honestly you're amazed that he's able to hold a conversation despite everything that's happened to him, you can already tell that he's reached his breaking point; his suit seems to be shredded from wherever Dean decided to stab him, the scruff on his face is matted down with sweat, his sunken eyes look like they're about to collapse at any minute, and the smell of blood sticks to the air surrounding him in a glaze of misery and hopelessness. He already lost his arrogant behavior, assuming it was also due to Dean from earlier this morning; perhaps he had finally broken down and is willing to speak about the secrets Sam had wanted, rather than his vague lies and attempts to cover up whatever he knows.

A sunken feeling lines the pit of your stomach, you truly are at a crossroad without any idea on who to believe. Despite the brothers taking you in and showing you the ropes, instead of dropping you off in the middle of nowhere and driving away, show that they do have _some_ _compassion_ for a few people; however you've always felt deep down inside that they weren't telling you everything they know, and recently these old memories flooding inside your mind aren't helping their case either. You know well that Castiel wouldn't hide anything from you, despite his absent mind and tendencies to wander off mindlessly; you know that he doesn't do it on purpose.

Luna jumps down from the desk and scrunches up against your legs, curiously gazing up at you with a shy expression whereas Crowley tries to stay focused on you with a few slip ups here and there due to the torture and human emotion coursing through his veins. You let out a small, deep sigh slightly regretting the next words out of your mouth; but you also can't pass up any opportunity to figure out why you don't have a soul, and who you truly are.

"What do I have to do, and make it quick because I have no idea when they're going to come back." Reaching for the knife once again, you slide it inside one of your pockets in case he tries to outnumber you in the future. You're not too keen on spending a few hours alone with him while he tries to live up to his promise on showing you your soul, however you also want to get a better understanding at where he comes from considering the fact that all you really know about him is what the Winchesters have said about him, and right now he hasn't really been showing you evidence that what they've said is actually true. His lips twitch into a small smirk before coughing once more, slightly gesturing towards the chains that have him bound into the chair without anymore will left to speak. All though every fiber in your body is screaming at you to not release him based on what Dean has told you about his manipulative personality, the other side of you is also ruling out that he won't flee due to the human emotion he currently has, and the obvious attraction towards you has rendered him useless before.

"You could start by freeing me, perhaps? I know it doesn't mean much but you have my word, sweetheart. _I won't run off._ "

Surely that sentence alone gives off a few red flags, but lately you've been following the brothers' rules for almost a month, surely what's a few hours to make your own decisions going to do? After all, you've handled yourself in other situations quite well, even if he does try to get away he wasn't really hard to kidnap in the first place. Carefully you begin to make your way towards the Demon, your fingers graze over his neck while you feel around for the latch to undo the shackle, while trying to avoid his blunt eye contact. Eventually you find it and pry it open, freeing him halfway as the imbued metal clatters to the floor, and sharpens your senses on what his next move could be.

You hesitate for a bit, expecting him to smoke out and flee to find help and ruin the Bunker's location, but instead he simply sits there, patiently waiting for you to release his hands and feet without showing any signs of restraint or making any attempts to flee. Maybe he truly does mean it, after all he can freely leave right now if he wished to considering he can take off whenever, and you're just a human, so it's not like you could take off after him and keep up. Bobby warned you to never trust a Demon, they're unpredictable and usually end up screwing people over; but Bobby never said anything about trusting a Demon full of human pity and guilt, emotions can easily overpower anyone's influence on doing anything, and so far Dean has broken any will Crowley had left.

The second your fingers touch his wrists you instantly remember another forgotten memory from the past; sending you back into that small tavern in the ancient village once again.

The place has a slimy haze to it, as well as an awful smell related to alcohol and vomit while the crowd either sits at somewhat sturdy tables scattered around the floor, or clumped together drunkenly dancing to the old band playing instruments with one another; having a grand time. You make your way through the crowd and sit down in front of Crowley, noticing the several glasses around him are empty, and his face is flushed from the overwhelming amount of alcohol in his system.

"Nathaira, how I missed the days we shared behind that _wench's back_. I've come to say that I made a deal with the Devil last night." His words are slurred with little to no effort in even trying to cover up the fact that he's drunk. Your fingers rest against the wooden table's surface while trying to comprehend what he just said.

"Why's that? The Devil is no joke around here and you know that." You impatiently retort, under the impression that he's trying to mock the damned in an attempt to bring in horrible luck to this village and its people, as well as ignoring his first comment.

He nearly falls over from being unable to keep himself sitting upright, his fingers tremble a little bit as he reaches for the last glass that has a bit of whiskey left over at the bottom, desperate to get the last drop despite his body clearing telling him that enough is enough.

"But I did, _I_ _swear it_! I was a drunken fool and it was real, I have ten years to pay up. Surely you believe me, _right_?" His hazel eyes gaze towards you in a familiar manner, you feel as if you've known this man for quite some time and you also feel that he completely trusts you with your judgment and his life, considering he's pouring out his feelings right now.

"You're drunk _and_ a fool; so where does the truth lie if it did happen? And what exactly _did you_ get in return for your soul, Fergus?" The name rolls out over your tongue without even thinking about it, he loses his balance and his head slumps down against the table before picking himself back up after scattering the glasses around and cracking a few of them in the process, causing one of the bartenders to clear his throat a few tables behind us.

"... I'd rather not say, but perhaps later I could show you instead?" He lifts his drunken head up from the table, flashing you a drunk, cheeky grin before passing out once more for a few seconds and nearly falling out of his chair. You can't help but smile at the drunken idiot, feeling also a bit sorry for him in return. You feel as if you've seen him at his worse, even though this looks pretty bad, you're also certain that he's had many, _many_ rougher days than this.

"You drunken fool. Come, let's get you cleaned up and out of this miserable place before _she_ finds you here and humiliates you further." Standing up, you reach for his wrist, pulling him up to his feet while helping him regain his balance as he slips a few dollar bills on top of the table before slowly stumbling through the crowd of people and out the door with you by his side; making sure he doesn't fall over and split his head open in the middle of the evening as you walk him home just down the small dirt road.

Your eyes glaze over, regaining control once again while still gripping his wrist, unaware of how long you were out of it. So many questions course through your mind based on what you just remembered, such as how did you know where exactly to find him, and why did you know him so well back then to begin with? Sam's mentioned that sometimes past life memories can be triggered if they're around a certain person who still remembers you from one, which was ' _highly unlikely never going to happen_ ' because anybody who was alive back then and still living were either in hiding for centuries, or overall just plain assholes; joke's on him, all though you're not entirely sure if this is considered a good thing or a bad thing yet.

"Something the matter, love?" He asks, watching you feel your way around to find the other latch to free both of his hands, after getting over the internal shock of a conversation from a couple centuries ago that was clear as day, and managed to stay fresh in your mind after all these years.

"Don't worry about it. Now, where exactly is it; my soul I mean." You finish your sentence while prying open the two cuffs locking his wrists to the chair, trying not to mention anything about the recent memory to him. The second the cuffs come off he raises both hands and rubs his wrists in an effort to relieve him from the stiffening pain, clearing his throat a little, and smiling briefly.

"Try not to blink or you'll miss the entire thing, darling."

Before you can even grasp what he's trying to say, his hand grabs your hand tightly while snapping his fingers, instantly teleporting the both of you to a different area that you're unfamiliar with. The stone walls are lined with priceless artifacts dating anywhere from around the world, there's ancient maps rolled up beside one of the desk's legs as well as a beautiful rug covered in detailed designs against the stone floor. There are so many ancient artifacts in this massive room as well as an old fireplace that has all sorts of little mementos on top of it. Your body doesn't know what to feel, usually when you teleport with Castiel around the world it's a much calmer emotion that courses through your veins, except with this one it was just odd, and didn't feel like it was naturally right in the world; evil, almost.

"Where exactly _are_ we?" You let go of his cold fingers, moving around the ancient room as your eyes widen in excitement. You feel as if you're in a lavishly furnished museum somewhere in Europe with the amount of objects either laying around or being displayed, a few famous paintings hang on the walls that catch your attention, as well as several little fragments from the Natives that catch your eye. Not to mention the amount of bookshelves full of ancient novels and written scrolls makes you want to stay wherever this place is for a bit longer. Probably the one thing you and Dean don't have in common is that you're not only a bookworm, but history fascinates you, and experiencing some of the historical events with Castiel firsthand such as a few periods in Rome around the time the Coliseum was being built, a few days before the eruption in Pompeii, and up to the Berlin wall being first built, _and_ destroyed in a matter of seconds apart amazes you that you've witnessed nearly everything history has to offer, and nobody; no _human_ can ever say they have done the same.

"You're in Hell, well, a _part_ of it. But don't worry, you don't have a soul so you can roam around freely; otherwise it would've been violently ripped from your body and tossed away like a cheap prostitute on a Tuesday afternoon in Venice." He walks toward his desk, showing a bit of pent up resentment towards the choice of words he decided to use in describing the ' _what if'_ scenario, indicating that he's probably had a rough Tuesday before. He picks up a few of the loose papers he has scattered everywhere on his desk and neatly lines them up, followed by gazing at a small detailed jar that has a white wisp-like essence floating around inside of it for a few seconds, hesitating on whether or not he should talk about , you shift your attention towards one of the decorated walls, admiring the relics that he has stored away down here for years. Your fingers gently touch one of the oil paintings done by Rembrandt, the darker ones always seem to have drawn you in for some reason as you feel the individual paint strokes by the artist, anything that's old as dirt always managed to catch your eye and your imagination. Crowley catches your attention and gently clears his throat, signaling you to move away, considering you got carried away in the moment.

"Ah, _Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn_ I personally didn't know the fellow, but he's down here in Hell if you're interested." He pipes up, attempting to charm you with his vast knowledge of the human race. Slowly but surely he's returning to his usual self every second that passes down here, which could also be a bad thing for you. Confused, you break away from the painting and look at Crowley oddly, thinking back to the type of man he was portrayed to be during history class during the Dutch segment he didn't seem like the type of guy to get him a one way ticket to Hell.

"Why's he down here, didn't he paint biblical events in the mid 1600s, and share his knowledge with fledgling artists?" Now he's just peaked your curiosity, something that Dean had warned you about previously. Crowley's eyes widen in amazement, utterly fascinated that you _do_ in fact know what you're talking about rather than just mindlessly rambling off inaccurate information.

"It _is_ quite fascinating that you're not as dumb as you look; and he was a serial killer and sold his soul to cover his tracks, a fascinating man if I do say so myself, quite the conversationalist too." He folds his hands behind his back, gazing at the painting as well for a few seconds before breaking away and hovering around beside his desk, holding the detailed jar with both hands. There's something about that jar seems oddly familiar to you, you can certainly feel it deep inside your body knowing that it must belong to you personally. Crowley catches your eyes lingering on the white wisp, he gently sets it back down and beckons you to walk over beside him, without wasting any more time he simply opens his mouth and bluntly spits it out.

"Here's your soul, _Pigeon_. Hidden away from the topsoil, and _remarkably_ still lukewarm after all these years."

Your knees begin to feel weak, you've always dreamed of actually finding your soul but you didn't think that it would've been even possible to recover it after all those years. You can't muster the strength to speak, let alone think straight. Your eyes fixate on the wisp glowing brightly inside the jar with the hope of returning to the soil as a different person. For years you've pondered over the actual thought of owning a soul, but you knew that you couldn't just steal somebody else's, it doesn't work like that. Your legs don't respond to the signals sent to your brain demanding them to move forward, eventually they slowly come around and shakily you make your way up to the edge of his desk. After finally being set on never being able to settle down and have a normal life; words can't express how happy you feel.

Crowley takes note of your reaction, twitching his face in a small smile before completely wiping it away, he clears his throat a little and loosens the buttons around the cuffs of his sleeves before holding his hands behind his back.

"I hid it for centuries, awaiting your arrival once again after you were murdered by my wife. You wouldn't remember that event, but _I do_ and it still haunts me to this day; let's just say, she wasn't very _fond_ of you and attempted to murder me as well. Do you know how hard it was to search every hospital for newborns without being caught, every single day for over two centuries? Remarkable security I say, but a tedious task none the less." His cheeky grin flashes over his face once more, showing admiration towards you as well as loyalty for you as well. That sentence alone shows that he had valued you remarkably high and shows how dedicated he was to searching for you for a long time.

You can feel his eyes burn into yours, as you edge a little closer towards his desk. Just as you begin to reach for the jar, his hand gently grabs your wrist once again, forcing you to make eye contact with him in a jarring manner, all you really want to do is head back with your soul and forget about all of this ' _Nathaira,'_ and ' _past life memories'_ crap so that way you can focus on hunting monster with the boys and figuring out how to lock up Hell for good from the human world.

"On one condition darling, I'm allowed to _walk away_. I can't just hand this over to you all _willy nilly_ ; that would be irresponsible of me." Your eyes lock onto his, you know he's right, and it _is_ a hefty price to pay for getting your soul back. You can already hear Dean bitching in your ear about how you let him get away, however catching Crowley won't be easy; but it's still doable. Before you could even open your mouth and respond with an answer, Crowley raises a finger and gazes upwards toward the ceiling, as if he's listening in on a conversation from above. He lets in a deep, agitated sigh before shaking his head in disbelief, he carefully picks up the jar and turns toward you with his full attention. You can't help but feel weak at this point, the one thing you've always wanted stands before you locked in an iron grip with the Devil himself; all you can simply do now is obey whatever words come out of his mouth next.

"Oh _bollocks_ , the boys arrived early."

* * *

Within an instant the both of you teleport back into the dungeon where the two brothers stand in the entrance completely dumbfounded, Sam's eyes wash over you in a look of disgust whereas Dean's looks like he's about to rip you a new one. Crowley stands behind your back with your soul in one hand, and your arm in the other. He flashes a cheeky grin to the boys, before letting go of your arm and ruffling your hair on top of your head. Your eyes lock with Sam's for a split second before he peels away, Dean on the other hand; looks like he's about to strap you to the chair and torture you the same way he did to Crowley.

Crowley gleams with pride in a sense, loosening the tie around his neck and clearing his throat, definitely looking a little better than what he did earlier with the frayed ends of sliced fabric and the stench of dried blood mopping up his well kept appearance. While setting the detailed jar down on the metal table between the four of you.

"Hello boys, glad to see we've gotten everything all sorted out. I have Pigeon's soul, it wasn't part of the bargain but I couldn't resist-" He began, only to be roughly cut off from Dean, who looks like he's really close to losing his temper. He can't help himself at all; Dean rubs both of his temples with his fingers as he just stands there in the middle of the room, trying to comprehend what exactly it is that he's seeing right now in front of him. You can tell he's not doing so well, especially since you misjudged how long they'd be and gladly let Crowley free behind their backs.

"You've got to be _kidding_ me right now, did you _seriously_ let him go; for your _own_ gain? We spent _months_ planning this and then you _waltz in_ and _fuck_ everything up. I knew we should've left you in London, but Sam insisted we'd take you in." His furious green eyes pierce yours with a look only to be described with anger and resentment. He takes a few steps towards the table; only to have Crowley intervene once again.

"Ah, ah, ah, it's not very nice to threaten a lady. Surely your mother taught you a few manners- _oh_ , that's right, _my bad_." The second those words leave his mouth, Dean tries to lunge for him in a fit of rage, only to be grabbed by Sam and held back in a quick manner. Sam's face tightens as well, appalled by the stupidity that you've shown; yet they've sacrificed living people to save each other in the past, so what's wrong with being a little selfish for once; especially if it was for a part of you that's been missing for decades? Crowley begins to pace around after a few seconds, watching Sam struggle to keep Dean away from the both of you in the far end of the room. He can't help but mock the brothers after everything they've done to him recently down here in this chair. He stops moving and gazes back towards you, hesitating on saying something else that sat in the back of his mind before he turns his stare over towards the brothers; smirking devilishly.

"You see, Squirrel, Moose, I applaud your torturous methods; you really did _show me_ , didn't you? But now that I'm standing here along with the three of you; instead of killing you instantly for the Hell you've put me through, I figured I'm going to make her a deal and happily move on and _pretend_ that this never happened." He turns towards you once again, with both of his hands resting against the jar. Your mind races with wild thoughts, remembering the efforts and fun times you've had with the boys and Castiel for the past little while, and also that room Crowley had shown you just moments ago; full of everything that you honestly could've dreamed of, tearing your heart into two halves of a whole. Your fingers begin to twitch slightly, your eyes dart between Sam and Dean, and Crowley however you feel like you can't possibly make your own decision on what to do. You've managed to see Crowley's good side, and the boys' bad sides so far, each of them has their own flaws but figuring out which one would get you killed faster; is quite difficult to pinpoint.

"She can either come back to Hell; _with me_ , or play cops and robbers with you two, and risk her life while the both of you _save yourselves_ and leave her in the dust. So what'll it be, _darling_?"


	8. Chapter Seven: Decision of a Lifetime

The boys immediately stop what they're doing and gaze at you curiously, whereas Crowley stands there looking rather pleased with himself for the ultimatum he's made. Your eyes move cautiously around the three of them, and the small jar Crowley's holding, knowing that no matter what you decide you'll get your soul returned back to you. Also knowing that you'll probably have to face the wrath of Dean afterwards, however you're also sure that they'd both understand why you let him free; after all, Castiel insisted on them looking for your soul a couple weeks back so the boys must've discussed it when you weren't around at one point.

The dungeon grows silent, Luna strolls in through the open door and sits down beside Sam, with her wide eyes piercing yours reminding you that once again you have a decision to make. Your mind is completely scrambled and unaware of what to do, you've never felt this hopeless before despite standing between the three of them; Sam and Dean, two loveable idiots who you've grown attached to, despite their countless fights and arguments surrounding you, and Crowley; the King of Hell himself who seems to reminisce in the past that the two of you had once shared, and a whole new side of this world to explore revolving around Demons and being in control. Time itself feels as if it has stopped moving, your mind feels as if someone has slammed it hard against a wall repeatedly, creating the biggest rift between your thoughts that you've ever experienced.

Your eyes gaze down at the floor towards your feet, causing your mind to still draw a blank on what to choose, you feel yourself standing at the crossroads, one side has the boys and Castiel, the other has Hell and Crowley. Despite everything that you've been exposed to, countless beheadings to Demons, sirens, even dispatching a few werewolves here and there really add on to your character, and morally knowing which side to take; however given the fact that you still don't have your soul inside of you, it really adds pressure towards your morals that you've been trying to keep balanced. The soulless part of you keeps tugging you closer towards ruling Hell and becoming immortal rather than figuring out a way to destroy him, and seal the gates forever, creating a rift between the lawful and chaotic natures that are split evenly inside your mind.

After what feels like an eternity your thoughts finally cease to remain, leaving you with a simple answer for Crowley's question.

"I made my decision, now hand it over." You take a moment to gather yourself once more, before turning around to face Crowley and trying not to show the desperation lingering throughout your body, longing for your soul to return back to you. He raises an eyebrow, hesitant on giving you a reaction before sliding the small jar across the desk in your direction; with that same stupid shit-eating grin plastered onto his face, feeling as if he had won the war between the four of you.

"Whenever you're ready, Pigeon. The audience is waiting." The words barely escape his lips. You're well aware of his loyalty that he's shown you down in Hell for a brief moment, how he didn't waste any time setting a few hours aside for over two centuries in an attempt to track you down, and how you're almost _one hundred percent_ sure that he did in fact kill himself after his wife revealed how she murdered you in the past; causing him to become the King of Hell in a strange twist of fate. Your past life seems to be a part of you now, brief memories of standing by the river with a familiar figure beside you, a few more tavern nights similar to the ones that you recently visited earlier before, and an unmistakable vision of a noose hanging loosely from a dusty attic built in the 1700s indicating the truth behind the end of Crowley's human life.

Your fingers linger over the jar's lid, gazing back at the boys who just stand there, still pissed over the fact that you've overstepped your boundaries and nearly let the asshat responsible for creating all of these Demons loose. Knowing that he could've easily tricked you; you decided to trust your instincts instead while also knowing that Crowley wouldn't have tried tricking you in the first place, because of the human emotion coursing through his veins from the injections; preventing him from leaving you _especially_ since he remembers you from the past and is refusing to leave without you by his side.

' _That's all I ever wanted was to be loved._ ' The words linger throughout your mind once again from before, reminding you that he did nearly breakdown in this exact spot yesterday. ' _Don't I at least deserve to be loved?_ ' It's almost as if you're sympathizing with him based on the morals you've set for yourself at a young age, causing you yet again to rethink your current choice in a matter of moments before settling on a decision once more.

The jar feels warm underneath your fingers, despite the dungeon being cold and damp, your fingers gently press on the small cork removing it from the top and letting the white wisp float freely around in front of your face. Words can't describe the empty emotion you feel towards seeing your own soul floating in front of your face, you know that you should at least feel _some_ sense of accomplishment; but you're also well aware of the fact that you simply can't feel any emotion yet. Without a moment to lose, the wisp begins heading in your direction, illuminating a strange celestial white glow while trickling up your nose and inside your mouth. You exhale inwards after a few moments, opening your eyes and feeling the strange emotion that now circulates throughout your body. You can almost feel the tension in the air now, rather than not noticing it at all and focusing on your task at hand. You can almost see the world in color, instead of the standard black and white you've been seeing ever since you could remember; and for once in your life, you finally smile, not just some fake one either; a genuine smile controlled by emotions that course through your veins.

Your eyes graze past Crowley who heavily feels for you which you also can now notice, and the boys behind you are genuinely _still_ pissed off, which makes you feel terrified; for the first time in your life.

"There, you have your soul. Now can we please get back to the problem here? Crowley's out of his chains, and it's on _your_ hands." Dean steps forward after sitting in silence for a long time, causing Crowley to take a few steps back in fear, probably inflicted on him during the early hours of the morning when Dean had him trapped. Sam grabs Dean's arm once more, tossing you a sorrowful expression while trying to keep him away from you, in the meantime Crowley impatiently begins to get a bit irritated, waiting for you to voice your decision; and _soon_.

Your eyes gaze down towards your hands, noticing the weird color that radiates off of them since you've never seen it before at all, as well as the other weird emotions you're picking up on throughout this room. After _never_ experiencing any emotion of some sort, your heart slowly begins to jolt to life, pounding steadily inside your chest, returning that same smile to your face once more knowing that you're finally a human being with actual emotions and morals.

Luna lingers throughout the room, moving around freely before settling on a spot beside you, with her body intertwining between your legs and staring up at you; almost as if she too is begging for you to make your decision. You meet eyes with Sam's once more, slowly nodding your head in his direction while giving him a reassuring smile as he holds Dean back from his rage induced rampage.

You exhale deeply, turning around once again facing Crowley while trying to get used to this odd feeling of emotion circulating throughout your system. Your eyes lock onto his and suddenly feel a small jolt towards your heart, rapidly pounding for a few moments before dropping suddenly and having it vanish as well. Crowley smirks once again, implying that he must've heard it from where he is and begins moving forward towards you, reaching out with his hands and cupping both of your cheeks, hovering just inches away from your face and causing you to feel an odd sensation; a mixture between curiosity and what you can only assume is lust, remembering earlier when he let it slip about the sexual tension between the two of you and how you didn't know what he was talking about, considering the fact that you couldn't feel anything before.

"I knew you'd choose wisely, _darling_. It was only a matter of days before you would come around. I have a lot to show you, and-" His words are cut short from your lips finally reaching his; leaving both of the boys in shock, while Crowley presses his lips into yours for a few short seconds in return. Your eyes close, enjoying the emotion that you've never experienced before in your life, while also knowing that it's wrong to feel this way towards someone who's made your life a living Hell, despite doing it on purpose or by accident, you know that it's only a matter of time before you have to break away and shatter his dreams into a million pieces from what you're about to do next.

After all, improvising is what you've always done best. Bobby had taught you to stay several steps ahead of your enemies and to catch them at their most vulnerable points when they're off guard; and right now seems to be as good as any other time to do just that.

Your hand reaches down against your side, gripping the demon knife and pulling it out from your pocket. You almost feel bad for having to do this; considering Crowley's given up his entire human life for yours, as well as most of his immortal one just to find you again; however, you're not so sure you'd rather spend the remaining years as a Demon, and ruling Hell beside him just isn't your thing anymore, now that you've received the one thing you've lost years ago and the feeling towards ' _spending eternity_ ' isn't mutual with him.

Just as he pulls away, he gazes down towards you in a delighted manner, his eyes glisten while leaving one of his hands resting against your cheek, clearly still having a bit of human emotions lingering throughout his bloodstream. Without another moment to lose, you position the knife between you and him, and in a matter of seconds his eyes widen painfully as the knife enters his abdomen and immediately he falls to the floor; trying to silence his hoarse cry. After realizing what you've just done, his eyes glaze over in shock and confusion, causing a small tear to drop from the corner of his left eye; and a feeling of betrayal ripping away at his 'nonexistent' heart.

"Y-you, -y-you..." His words tremble from the amount of shock he's in, unable to form a complete sentence to show his true thoughts. Instead his eyes just stare at yours, with a look of dismay and a small hint of sadness towards your choice of action. "I was taught by the best, and they always said to be a few steps ahead of your enemy." Your hand presses against his shoulder while the other one pulls out the bloody knife, your eyes also break away from Crowley who's dumbfounded and slightly bleeding out on the floor. You flick the knife to the side removing the excess blood from the blade before wiping it against the side of your jeans. Both of the boys are still taking a moment to process what exactly had just happened; mainly just Dean since Sam's had a hunch from the beginning that you wouldn't just get up and leave them behind. Sam begins to move towards Crowley in an attempt to catch him again, giving him a small glimpse of empathy considering he's put everything on the table; his human emotions, the memories from the past, and not trying to flee when he's had several chances to. Crowley manages to stay crouched down with a hand holding his stomach with a copious amount of blood dripping between his fingers from the wound, eventually he clues into what just happened and his eyes raise to meet yours with a painful glance full of betrayal and sorrow, snapping his fingers and vanishing instantly from the dungeon, leaving nothing but a few blood splatters along the concrete floor.

* * *

The evening's been quiet ever since Crowley took off, Castiel was found before his Demons could get a hold of the poor Angel and he's been wandering around the countless stacks of shelves in an attempt to find anything on the Eleventh Commandment since Crowley was no help to us at all; besides telling us that it was for ' _Demons only._ ' Sam's abandoned the Hidden Codex theory for now, in an attempt to recover after the mental trauma we've all endured these past few days. Dean's managed to calm down and forgive you after letting Crowley go, he's well aware of the reason that caused you to trust Crowley and he seems to be rather okay with it; more so than you originally thought, considering you were expecting to be lectured and on his bad side for a couple of weeks, and after the events that happened down in the dungeon you've noticed a weird emotion lingering between the two of you; instead of him mindlessly hating on you, and lecturing you like a child you can't help but also notice the faint line of attraction he's had towards you, which possibly could've been there all this time.

The lamp flickers slightly against the walls of your room, causing Luna to get a little fidgety as she tries to get comfy again by snuggling up against one of your pillows on the bed. You lay there completely motionless, trapped inside a world of thoughts and imagination that you've never experienced before; and reliving a few of the old memories from your past life just for the sake of it. Your mind lingers on the events that happened today, the way how Crowley didn't hesitate to kiss you back, even though yours was supposed to be a simple decoy, it ended up feeling a little _more_ than just that in the end which confuses you slightly, considering you've just gotten your soul back and this whole 'emotion' thing is new to you. Perhaps it was due to the past life emotions, clearly him and Nathaira had something going on, if it cost him to take his own life after she was murdered then she must've meant a lot to him, you may have been reincarnated from her; but you two existed in different time periods even if it was meant to be it didn't feel right to you, it felt as if it should've stayed in the past; something that shouldn't have been tampered with in the first place.

A light knock can be heard from your door, without any warning Dean enters the room with a small smirk on his dumb face. Lately he's been softening up to you just like you suspected he would, given the fact that you both enjoy the same thing practically. The wind howls against the side of the bunker that's not underground, despite having an open window and supposedly being a ' _secret hideout_ ' one of the perks of magic infusing items is the glass; people on the street could look up and see nothing at all but an abandoned dark room, even with the light turned on.

"I guess you _did_ have it in you to pull it off, kid. I'll go eat my own words now, huh?" He softly closes the door behind him, causing you to sit upright instead of staying slouched over from the amount of pillows on your bed, casually you push aside the aged novels and a couple of loose papers that you've recently found titled _Nathaira's diary;_ quite a few interesting days she's had in the past, especially with Crowley. Dean stands there for a few more seconds, unable to think of the right words to say as he approaches your bed and sits on the edge of it. His dark green eyes meet yours with a friendlier vibe, instead of being doubtful and just plain rude as he was beforehand, I guess letting Crowley go was a good idea; considering the fact that he wasn't willing to cooperate and tell us anything useful.

"What can I say, I told you I could handle it. So does that mean I'll be able to tag along more often, or are you still butthurt over my car being better than yours?" You shift your head over a little so that way he's in your light of sight sending the same shit-eating grin back in his direction, his lips twitch into a grin, while kicking off his shoes and laying down beside you, staring up at the ceiling looking content and genuinely relaxed for the first time in awhile.

"You know what? I hope you crash that car in a ditch somewhere and it catches on fire with you in it." His hand ruffles the side of your hair, while lightly slapping you across the face for making fun of the Impala. You can tell he doesn't mean it, based on his reactions and the fact that he's still here beside you, that and you've heard the countless stories about how that car travels across the country usually in one piece; if anything it runs better than yours which is downstairs hidden away in the massive underground garage, probably collecting dust since it's been a month or so.

"Yeah okay I'll do that next time it sees daylight. So is that the last we'll see of Crowley, or does he have a habit of showing up unexpectedly?" You casually find an opportunity to slide in a question about Crowley, considering he's all the boys were talking about for several weeks and to all of a sudden have me _and_ him show up around the same time. Dean hesitates for a brief moment, taking in a deep breath before opening his mouth.

"You don't even know. He's going to be around, but after destroying whatever feeling he had left for you really put a huge target on your back. Once the blood's out of his system he's either going to hunt you down, or just be really salty towards you for the next several years." His head turns towards you against the pillow, flashing you a reassuring smile.

The thought of having the entirety of Hell itself angry with you sickens you to your stomach, your mind has been jumping around lately, wondering on if you made the right choice or not. After all, the good guys always win the fight; but it depends on the cost and what they end up losing in return to ensure that victory. Your facial expression clearly looks a little worried, considering Dean's looking a bit angry with himself for his choice of words. He quickly opens his mouth once more, fitting in another quick sentence.

"Don't worry about it, Sam and I won't _ever_ let him hurt you and if he does; we'll march right back down to Hell and deal with him ourselves." He wraps an arm around you, pulling you in closer against his body. His scent is laced with a bit of oil and grease, indicating that he was making a few adjustments to the Impala before he decided to enter your room. The wind begins to pick up it's pace as well as the sound of a few raindrops tapping against the window outside. Despite everything that's happened in the past few days, the countless arguments you and Dean had gotten into while driving around from State to State, arguing on where to eat lunch at, and pretty much anything else in between has melted away ever since your soul was returned. Instead of being hostile and judgmental towards you for being soulless, he's been showing you a softer side of him lately, which surprised Sam and Castiel at first considering how he's always treated you with such resentment and a lack of trust but now, you feel as if everything is going to be alright for the days to come, and who knows; maybe one day you'll be able to uncover the truth of Crowley's past and fill in the missing pieces that trace around your mind from your past life with the boys by your side, and after watching how Crowley reacted when you entered his life; Sam's been intrigued by what exactly happened between him and Nathaira, and how it could open another door to finding Crowley again and figuring out the ' _Demons only_ ' codex. Only time will tell, and that won't happen for a long time anyways.

 _ **A/N - Thank you everyone who's read and supported this fic, I currently have a NEW one up that's an addition to this one called Acts of Revenge. Feel free to check it out as well. :)**_


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